


Mistaken for a Miracle

by RottenKidNextDoor (PortalofWords)



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, Cinnamon Roll Carlos de Vil, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Evie/Mal (Disney), Nightmares, Opposites Attract, Panic Attacks, Protective Jay, They make each other happy, Trauma, carlos hears voices, implied mevie, jaylos, the isle was horrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-04-16 23:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 59
Words: 111,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortalofWords/pseuds/RottenKidNextDoor
Summary: They were accidents, consequences, merely byproducts of some chaotic evil. Opposites in every way, who would've thought a pup would find comfort in a thief?





	1. Questions

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is going to be a multichapter Jaylos fic. It's not going to be incredibly graphic, but expect leftover trauma from past abuse. There will be lots of fluff to balance it out though, so enjoy! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos is curious and it doesn't end well

>   _“There is a time in a boy’s life when the sweetness is pounded out of him;_
> 
> _and tenderness,_
> 
> _and the ability to show what he feels, is gone.”_
> 
> _~ Norah Vincent_

* * *

The thing about miracles is that they never pop up quite where you’d expect them to. It’s not like they come with a flowery card or a confetti pop, no golden halo or anything else that might suggest something out of the ordinary has occurred. In fact, the miracle itself might’ve happened by mistake. That's another thing about them: they’re often indistinguishable from accidents.

And as far as the tiny freckled son of Cruella was concerned, there were no such thing as miracles. Or divinity, for that matter. After all, if celestial bodies did exist, why was he sleeping on the floor in his mother’s closet? Why was he going to be imprisoned for the rest of his life? Why wasn’t he strong enough to protect himself? Why did his only parent go crazy and hurt him?  And for that matter, why did his father leave in the first place?

Sometimes, when his mother wasn’t having one of her physcotic episodes, he’d try to ask her about these things. They were always on his mind, after all.

“Momma?”

“Yes, Carlos, darling?” Cruella purred, stroking an ocelot fur overcoat, threading a needle through a small gap in the inner lining. Her long fingers deftly plated the superannuated pelt that remained one of the only ties to her old life of glamour. “Exquisite, isn’t it? Look at the patterning. Made from full skins, too, not the shitty half-derma that man tried to pawn off to me the other day in the market.”

“Yes, it’s beautiful.” Carlos couldn’t see how a dead animal’s skin was anything other than macabre, but he’d never say that out loud. “Momma, I have a question. A few, actually.”

“That’s your problem, dear,” Cruella sighed, hardly glancing up from her furs. “You think too much. It’s why you’re so easily overpowered by the other children.”

Well, there was an answer to one of the questions. Thinking made him weak. Carlos didn't know if it was right or if there was even a correct solution to his inquiries, but one was better than none at all. After a moment, he tried another. “Why are we being punished?”

“Because the people over _there_ would rather suffer in faux fur than see one lynx die.” His mother clicked her tongue, finally looking up at him. “Animals are not like you and I.”

“Aren’t we animals, too?”

“Can they sew? Can they find the perfect vintage pelt and know just how to fix it up?” Cruella furrowed her brows, appraising him with her hawk-like gaze. “You’ve never seen their eyes turn milky white, Carlos. Those animals - their beauty isn't in life, but death. The way their bodies lie so still and preserved and helpless… there’s something so breathtaking about holding that limp creature and fashioning it into something to drape around your neck. The people on this miserable island waste their time on humans, and they can’t even wear them when they’re finished. What a mistake.”

“Oh.” The boy ran his hands through his white-hair, wondering how it would look on a shawl or a hat or a scarf. Would it be considered expensive? Valuable, even?

“No,” Cruella said, her focus returning to the coat. “It wouldn’t be worth two cents, you don’t take care of it.” Sometimes he wondered if his mother could read his mind, it certainly felt like it. Maybe he was just predictable.

Still, the Cruella sitting before him was the functional one, the mother that more closely resembled the definition he’d once found in the dictionary taken from the Forbidden Library: a woman who brings up a child with care and affection. Anything was better than the batshit lunatic who lived inside her. Sometimes it happened suddenly, other times it was like the madness trickled down slowly from her eyes to her mouth to her hands, but the result was always the same. Carlos had become very familiar with the shades of blue and purple and red.

Even now, he could see the lunacy eating away at her pupils as she studied a spot on the fur, tilting her head. “Do you see this, sweetheart? What’s this?” Cruella’s voice had become misleadingly sweet, the passive aggression hiding beneath her chosen words. The needle was placed on the table and the ocelot fur turned towards him to reveal a red-brown stain. “Tell Mommy what’s on this coat.”  

“Uh… um… blood, Momma. A little blood, I think. It was an accident.”

Cruella made a move to stroke his hair, reaching down to just dig her chipped acrylic nails into his neck. “And darling, how did it get there?”

The little boy flinched, knowing exactly what was coming. “I was bleeding… where the belt cut me last night…”

“Oh, so you’re blaming me?” Cruella laughed, her grip tightening a fraction. “You little shit, this is isn’t my fault! Whose fault was this? Tell me whose fault this was!” She held his neck tighter, those long nails pressing painfully into his sensitive skin.

“Mine! It was mine, Momma! All mine!” the boy yelped, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. “It was all my fault!”

“Yes, it was. It’s ruined because of you,” Cruella hissed in his face. “You and your half-assed carelessness. You’ve been a bad boy, Carlos. You know what happens to bad boys, don’t you?”

Carlos nodded, his lip trembling. “Yes, Momma.” He bit his lip, waiting for the blow. When it finally landed, his eyes stung from the tears he was holding back.

“Stop crying! You're lucky, you know that? I've let you off easy. Do you know what happens to bad boys whose mothers don't protect them?” Cruella went back to petting his hair. “The dogs come, tearing up disobedient children and lapping up their blood like water. Those monsters would drink you white if I let them.”

The little boy had gone very pale, nodding, a huge red mark already beginning to show itself where she’d hit him.

“Oh, sweetheart, I wish you'd learn.” Her voice had returned to normal, the sugar practically crusting on the edges of her words. “Mommy wishes you wouldn't make so many mistakes, then she wouldn't have to punish you.”

And even though he nodded, and promised, and swore to her that he would do better, every passing day seemed to bring a new way for him to mess up. All accounts agreed, the de Vil boy was an anomaly as far as survival was concerned, but he knew there was nothing miraculous about him.

A mistake, he would tell himself, not a miracle, but a mistake.

 

 


	2. Consequence of Greed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a woman ends her life and Jay's is saved by his potential

> _“A thief is a man in need._
> 
> _A liar is a man in fear”_
> 
> _~ Khalil Gibran_

* * *

The more beautiful the eyes, the stronger the lies. At least, that was how Jay felt about it. He knew he was one of the best looking boys on the island, but his tan skin and long dark hair did more than just boost his ego. They were his favorite tools while on the job, and although he didn't know it, they'd also kept him alive at the very beginning.

His birth had come as something of a surprise to his father. A couple of years before Cruella’s son had defied the odds, Jafar had been presented with a consequence of his greed.

The former grand vizier had been bitterly adjusting to the Isle’s harsh conditions when the gift arrived.

“Iago,” Jafar had purred, putting a finger to his lips. “There’s a package on the front step. Go out and tell me what’s inside.” He’d rather let the bird test it first, should there be a twisted side to this _charity._

His parrot, whose feathers were much thinner and belly much slimmer from months of a poor diet, obediently flew out the window, perching on the corner of the box. His loyalty was one thing that hadn’t changed upon arriving here. Jafar had watched, his eyes narrowed craftily, but nothing happened. Nothing exploded, no one snatched the bird up. In fact, on the whole, Iago had seemed unconcerned.

“Interesting.” The man studied the parrot, who was peering down into the box. When Iago returned, he flew back to his perch and began cleaning himself. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“What does the box contain, you brainless bastard!”

“A baby.”

Jafar stood taller, his eyes slits. “A what?”

“A baby.” The parrot seemed unconcerned with his master’s apparent displeasure as he lifted his wings and ruffled his feathers. “Honestly, you’d think the so-called heros would at least care if we starved to death over here. Aren't they supposed to be celebrated for their gifts to the needy?”

But Jafar had already gone outside, wondering if Iago was somehow in on the joke. A baby? Well, if his (incredibly testing) bird was telling the truth, he would kill the child before anyone got a chance to wish they’d never left it near him.

Indeed, inside the box, there was a small, wriggling child. It was crying loudly, wrapped up in a dirty scrap of cloth. Jafar’s lip curled in disgust. He considered simply strangling the child or tossing it off one of the docks, but before he could decide which would be more enjoyable, something else demanded his attention. The worn envelope, stained with ink and time, resting against the side of the box wasn't altogether eye-catching, but it gave the vizier enough pause to consider the circumstances. Suddenly, he saw gold and a new idea formed in his monetary-driven mind. Someone might want this baby’s parts or its heart, especially the witches on the far side of the island. Opening the letter, he scanned it quickly, looking for a clue into the baby’s worth.

 

_Grand Vizier Jafar, sir,_

_When I first arrived here, I considered myself free. I quickly discovered, however, that this island is a prison even more despairing than those of Agrabah we street thieves came to know well._

_Everyone warned me that I'd end up selling myself someday, but I never thought it would be to you. Looking back, your gold wasn't worth it anyway, not now._

_You see, our little secret had a consequence. Thieves work alone, and I am neither fit, nor do I aspire to be, the mother to your child. Don't bother trying to seek me out, I've already taken the easy way out. A goblin indebted to me delivered this gift, and if he's done as I asked, there should be the dagger that took my life included as proof. It doesn't matter to me if you believe me or don't, but every drop of blood on that blade is as good an oath as any._

_The baby is a boy and he may serve as your heir if you'd like. If not, you may use my dagger to return him to me. I urge you to think twice about that, though: you may die soon on the miserable isle, and he may be your only hope of legacy. I know that’s the only thing that means anything to you._

_Signed,_

_**Laila** _

_Ps. his name is Jayesh_

  

 

Inside the envelope, there was an small photo of a very young Arabian woman, one clearly taken back on the mainland, and her long dark hair just as beautiful as he remembered. A perfect price, a perfect deal, a perfect prize had somehow left him with this _byproduct._

Examining the dagger that she'd included, Jafar turned it over. It obviously had been taken from the mainland, the black handle crafted to perfection better than any shoddy craftsman on the Isle could produce. How easy, how satisfying it would be to open up a cut on the child’s neck and watch it drip down its body and stain the rags.

But standing there, on his steps that bitter afternoon, the disgraced vizier realized something else. This boy might solve all his problems. This boy could grow up to learn his mother’s ways, to become a better thief than she ever was. And he would bring his father the island’s riches, wherever they were hiding.

So Jay lived, too. Strictly for what he could do. And he’d grown strong, inheriting his father’s cunning and his mother’s beauty, but more importantly, her skills. Jafar’s income was entirely comprised of reselling Jay’s finds.

Someday, he’d find it, though. The thing Jafar craved most.

The Big Score.

Jay would find it, and they’d finally be happy. After all, he was a consequence. Simply an outcome of an impulsive deal. And if he'd been born from greed, to greed he would always return.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter (sorry it's so short). Jay and Carlos will meet up soon and the plot will pick up :)


	3. Mercurial and Gilded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jay attempts to steal a lamp

>   _“What glitters may not be gold;_
> 
> _and even wolves may smile;_
> 
> _and fools will be led by promises to their deaths.”_
> 
> _~ Lauren Oliver_

* * *

 The social hierarchy of the island wasn't complicated from an outsiders point of view: just those who kicked, and those who got kicked.

It was only the little nuances that granted immunity or punching rights based on association that caused rifts among the population. Luckily for Jay, he wasn’t anywhere near the yellow bellies near the bottom of the food chain, which allowed him to pick and choose his enemies and allies at will. Not that he was interested in very many agreements, of course. Thieves worked alone, that was Jay’s adopted mantra, and completely unaware that it had once been his mother's, too. 

He made it seem easy, the job he'd assumed. Pouts got food, kisses got valuables, and trades were never equal. Once Jay set his eyes on an object, he got what he wanted.

And today, that object was a lamp.

The young thief knew that there was no magic on the island, but somewhere, in the back of his mind, a small voice wondered whether a tiny bit still remained. After all, if anyone could stimulate magic from a old oil lamp, it was his father. But first, he had to make it his.

The lamp man was arguing with a peddler, his voice loud and angry. “I’ve seen better fish floating on top of the water!” his gruff voice insisted, one eye covered by a stained scrap of cloth. “Why down at the wharf -”

“Original price or no deal!” the old woman manning the rickety stall cut in, waving the slimy animal in the air, blood still oozing from the gills. “I can get anyone here to pay twice as much! You’re lucky I’m giving you such a bargain!”

“I don’t know,” Jay said lightly, casually walking up to lean on the stall post. “Those look pretty nasty to me.”

Both the old woman and the man turned, their irritation suddenly trained on him.

“Boy,” the old woman hissed, now waving the fish at him. “Move your ass along unless you’re interested in buying something! Stop trying to cut into my sales!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jay could see that the man’s attention was diverted, but not enough. “Not so fast, maybe I am interested in buying something.”

“Please, you don’t have a penny on you!” the woman scoffed, eyeing him with burning scrutiny.

“No, you’re right.” Jay grinned, fishing three gold coins out of his pocket. “Just these.” It worked like a charm.

In that split second the man spent admiring the rare metal, Jay saw his chance. Using one of his favorite maneuvers, he kicked up, using his foot to knock the lamp from the man’s loosened grasp. The latter shouted indignantly, stepping forward and landing a bow to the thief’s gut, trying to wrest the treasure away from him.

Another hard blow found Jay’s cheek, but still the boy refused to let go of the lamp. He had to bring it home, he had to give it to his dad.

“Thought you could distract me with a few shiny coins!?” The lamp man’s massive hands closed around Jay’s neck, squeezing tighter, but he only got a knee in the chest for his efforts. Jay crawled across the ground, reaching to snatch up the coins that had fallen to the dirt in their tussel. His nose was definitely bleeding, but he couldn't make his break until he had his father’s coins safely in his secret pocket again. The damage would be much worse than a bloody nose if Jafar found them missing.

_One… two… where was the third??_

“Looking for this?!” the old woman cackled gleefully as she held up the last coin, just as the man stood up, lunging at Jay. A sizable crowd had gathered to watch the scene now, as the two fought for the oil lamp. Much to his fury, however, the next time Jay looked up, the old woman was gone - taken off with the prizable object.

“Fuck!” In his anger, Jay found renewed strength, his fist coming into contact with the man’s nose, yielding a satisfying crunch. Taking the split second it gave him, he scrambled away, clutching the lamp tightly to his chest. Scaling the side of a building, he sprinted across connecting pipes towards the Junk Shop, his well-practiced feet flying across the narrow tubes of metal. Jay didn't know if the man had tried to follow, but by the time he reached home, he had other worries on his mind.

_Pops is gonna kill me._

He’d gone and lost one of his father’s most precious items.

_He’s gonna be so fucking pissed. I shouldn't have taken them._

The thief waited for a moment outside the door, gathering himself. There was a good chance his father wasn’t home yet, in which case he could return the stolen coins and blame the third on someone else. On the other hand, if Jafar was home, Jay wanted to maintain an illusion of power.

“What did you pick up?” It was the first thing his father always said to him, and today, it made his stomach drop more than usual. On with the second plan, then.

“Got something special today.” Jay entered into the kitchen, tossing his dad the oil lamp. Hoping, praying it would work for them. They could use a little magic right about now. Then, they could wish for all the gold they’d ever want, and his dad would never notice one little coin missing.

Jafar’s eyes lit up when he saw the trinket, and he snatched it out of the air, rubbing the side several times. They both waited breathlessly, but after a few moments, it was pretty clear that nothing was happening. His dad scoffed, tossing it onto a pile of stuff Jay had delivered home that week. “Sort this junk, will you? Our customers are getting pretty bored looking at the same old shit.”

The thief clenched his fists some. He’d worked so hard to get that lamp. Why hadn’t it worked? Why wouldn’t it work for them?

“Try again.”

“What did you say?”

“Try again!” Jay repeated angrily, retrieving the lamp. “It has to work.”

“There’s no magic here!” Jafar told his son, taking the lamp and throwing it back on the pile. “You know, I’m getting real sick of this perfunctory performance, Jay.” With that, his father emptied his pouch of precious coins onto the counter and began to count. Turning away, the boy eyed the pile of crap he needed to stock up front. If he walked out now, it would be as good as waving a white flag around like a cowardly cur.

“THERE ARE THREE COINS MISSING!” Jafar’s voice shook the small room, but Jay didn’t flinch.

“Bummer.”

“DID YOU TAKE THEM?” His father fixed him with the same unblinking stare he always did, but Jay kept his cool.

“Nope.”

“DON’T LIE TO ME, BOY. I CAN ALWAYS TELL IF YOU’RE LYING.” Jafar stepped closer, drawing himself up to his full height and just for a moment, Jay could see the shadow of the man he was once. “WE HAVE TWENTY-FOUR LOCKS ON THAT DOOR, AND YOU’RE THE ONLY THIEF WHO CAN PICK THEM. EMPTY YOUR POCKETS.”

When Jay refused, his father roughly pushed him against the wall and began searching the pockets himself, even the secret ones hidden in the lining. He found the first two coins, tossing them triumphantly on the counter. “Where’s the third?” If possible, his silky hum was worse than the yelling.

“Gone.”

“What do you mean… gone? You lost it?”

The thief met his father’s eyes, glaring back. He wouldn’t look away, no matter how much he wanted to. “I was busy fighting tooth and nail for that fucking lamp. I’m sorry that one of your gold coins just happened to fall out.”

“Get out of my house.” Jafar spat in Jay’s face, still holding the neck of his shirt. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.”

Jay’s face darkened and he ripped his father’s hands from his clothes, pushing him back. “Get your hands off me.” Kicking the pile of “to-be-sorted-junk”, he left the shop, slamming the door as hard as he could. His fists were balled up, and he was clenching his jaw hard. Cracking his knuckles, he strode off into the alleys of the Isle in search of a fight; he needed to blow off some steam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's coming guys! Next chapter is Jay and Carlos' first interaction! I hope you guys are enjoying this!


	4. Hell's Lackey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which "fun" isn't fun and Carlos encounters something like mercy for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some extra time, so here's another chapter! XD

>   _“The obedient must be slaves.”_
> 
> _~Henry Thorough_

* * *

 

“Carlos!”

He heard the voice and shot straight up, nearly knocking over the wash basin by his mattress. The tub wasn’t for him, of course (although he used it, too), but for his mother’s clothes. The boy wasn’t quite finished with the afternoon load, but he left it nonetheless. It would have to wait. 

He carefully edged his way around the bear traps in his mother’s closet and ran downstairs, skidding to a stop in the front room. “Yes, Mother?” he panted, clutching the stitch in his side. The room smelled heavily of bourbon and cigarette smoke, which turned his stomach into knots. Fighting the urge to cover his nose and mouth, he looked to Cruella for directions. Some of her old, threadbare fabric swatches and sketches were spread out on the nearby furniture, giving the illusion that she’d been planning some new lucrative designs, but it was obvious she’d abandoned her semi-lucid state awhile ago.

“I’m out.” Her words were slurred some, her nails tapping out a patternless tune on the table.

He didn’t want to step closer. Even one step would be enough to put himself in her range, and as soon as he crossed than invisible line, he knew she’d hit him. Even now he was close enough for her to throw something. Especially on days like this, when he could tell she’d already been drinking heavily. “Out… yes, of course… out…” He scanned the room quickly, looking for something she could possibly be out of. Seeing an empty can of toad’s blood toffee on the table, he figured he could give it a shot. Even expired, the stuff was still extremely rare on the island. And so, of course, he was forbidden to touch it. “Of toffee? Are you out of toffee? I think I can probably haggle with the old witches in the market-”

“No!” Cruella screeched. He must’ve inched forward without knowing it because her hand came in contact with the side of his face. “What are you, a fucking retard? I'm talking about the strong stuff that you can’t handle!”

She’d once made him drink a whole glass of hard cider just to watch him have a miserable night as he worked the stuff out of his body. Carlos trembled slightly, remembering how horrible the stuff had tasted. His mouth was dry and the side of his face throbbed, but he managed to say, “I - I can go get some.” He ducked as an empty bottle flew past his head, flinching as it shattered against the back wall.

“Do see that you’re home quickly, darling,” his mother drawled, taking another long drag on her cigarette. “Wouldn’t want you to miss curfew. You know what happens to naughty little boys who stay out too late.”

“Yes.” He shuddered just thinking about it. “I’ll be home soon.”

As he scurried out of the room, he heard her say call, “Oh, and sweep up that mess by the back wall. You really should’ve been more careful with that bottle.”

Carlos nodded, sweeping up the glass shards quickly before leaving the house. A cold wind blew down the alley as he walked, keeping his head down, hoping no one would bother him today.

The wharf always had the best alcohol, the stuff his mother preferred. The goblins down there boasted that they’d had it shipped especially from Auradon, even though everyone knew that was probably a lie. Most likely they were the leftovers of half finished bottles and cans tossed away on the mainland fashioned into a hardscrabble blend of drinks, although some were convinced they fermented the rotting fruit that arrived in the barges. Either way, it was no Auradon distillery, but did the job just fine for Cruella, and that was all the mattered to Carlos.

He kept looking anxiously up at the dome, watching the light fade slowly. Quickening his pace, he ducked underneath a pipe and continued seawards.

“Hey, de Vil!”

Carlos shuddered, the tremor going through his whole body. Walking faster, he tried to ignore the voice.

“Don’t run from us!” came another voice, laughing. “We just wanna have some fun.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see them. An odd trio of a step-granddaughter (this time it was the one with red hair), Anthony Tremaine, and Harry Hook.

“They told me how much fun you are,” the granddaughter laughed, twirling a lock of her hair. “You know how much I love having fun. Last time, who was it? The one with blonde hair, right?”

“Did you miss us?” Harry grinned, his thick accent sending stabs of fear through Carlos’ chest. “You were worth the wait on our end, that’s for sure.”

Carlos knew one thing and one thing only: he had to get away. Fast. Returning home empty handed and after curfew would mean utter hell for him, but if these three got a hold of him, he'd be almost worse off. So he did the only thing he could do: Carlos started running. Ducking behind rusty barrels and sprinting down alleys, his feet pounded the pavement as he ran. As he turned to glance over his shoulder, Cruella’s son failed to see the person who’d just stepped into the alley - right into his path. The white-haired boy smacked into the newcomer. Hard.

Managing to look up, he focused on a tall, muscular boy standing over him, his face angry and brooding. Carlos knew who he was, of course - he'd seen him at school - and the older boy was definitely on his list of people to avoid. Jay’s hands were curled into fists, and he was already sporting a bloody nose. The younger boy figured the thief must be angry about being smacked into, why else would he look ready to kill?

“I'm sorry!” the Carlos gasped, knowing that Tremaine and Hook would be rounding the corner any second. If Jafar’s kid teamed up with them, he'd stand no chance. Already at this point, he had no hope of making home before curfew. “Please…. please don't… do this….” Carlos hated how weak he sounded, pleading with the thief like this. He really was a sorry excuse for a villain.  “Please… they’ll hurt me… and then… I'll be late… and she’ll lock me up… don't do this….”

Jay seemed to just now realize Carlos was talking. “Who?”

But the younger boy didn't have to answer because Tremaine, Hook, and the red-headed girl came racing into the alley.

“Where do you think you're going, runt?” Anthony called, and Carlos felt his heart rate increase tenfold. Already out of breath from running and crashing into Jay, he was on the edge of blacking out. Clutching his head, he closed his eyes. Maybe it would all be over when he woke up.

Jay stepped over him, going to meet the group head on. Carlos curled up in the fetal position, wondering how rough the thief would be when he got his turn. He waited, but no hands ever came to touch him. Instead, grunts and yells filled the alley, and the familiar sound of blows landing met his ears. When he dared to open his eyes, (and found the strength to do it), he saw the evil granddaughter and Hook hauling Anthony back the way they'd come. Tremaine looked the bloodiest, but Hook’s lip was split for sure.

Jay had his back turned to Carlos, watching the trio scramble away, his shoulders rising and falling. The thief waited a few moments, then started to walk away.

“Wait,” Carlos croaking, pushing himself into a sitting position. “Wait! What… what was that…?”

Jay turned, looking back at him. “What was what?” His face had a smear of blood, but Carlos wasn't sure if it was from his earlier bloody nose or the new fight.

“That…” Cruella’s son blinked, so confused. Why hadn't the thief joined them? Four against one were way better odds than one against three. Even someone who didn't love math could've figured as much. “Why didn't you… the odds would've been better if you teamed up with them…”

Jay thought for a moment, shrugging. “I work solo. Besides, I kicked their asses, didn't I?”

Carlos nodded, still processing, trying to convince himself that he actually wasn't going to fall prey to Tremaine and Hook’s idea of “fun” again. “But… why not me? You could've kicked my ass.”

The thief shrugged again. “Looks like someone already got to you. It's no fun to beat up leftovers.” His eyes roamed over Carlos’ face, lingering on certain places, which the younger boy realized must be the bruises that his mother had already given him. “Besides, I needed a challenge tonight,” Jay continued. “You didn't seem like much of one.”  

Isle kids didn't thank each other, and Jay had made it clear that Carlos hadn't been spared out of pity, only deemed unworthy, just like everyone else on the Isle. Still, Carlos felt something like warmth bloom in his chest, regardless of the other boy’s motivations.

As Jay walked off into the darkness, Carlos returned to the shadows, where it was safer. He was going to get it from his mom when he got home, but at least he’d been saved once that night. It almost made the inevitable punishment easier to handle.

Almost.

 


	5. Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jay steals with someone else in mind and Carlos' eyes light up like the sun

>   _“The voice in her head told her not to trust him._
> 
> _But then, the voice in her head didn't trust anyone”_
> 
> _~ C.J. Daugherty_

* * *

 It was becoming more and more vocal.

The voice in his head.

He told himself that it kept him going. That it was his company when he was alone. Without it, he’d be lost. But truth be told, he wasn't sure he could control it anyway.

_Get up. Get up. Get up. You have work to do._

“I am.” He’d roll off his miserable excuse for a mattress in the back of his mother’s tiny dressing room and search around in the darkness for his clothes, the cold drafts chilling his bare body to the bone.

_You’re late. You’re always late._

“I know,” he’d mutter, beginning his daily regime of washing clothes and dishes and picking up cigarette butts. He'd started creating patterns, an order of chores and steps and sponges to use. The voice told him that the patterns would keep him safe, that she would be satisfied if he followed them.

_You’re gonna get beat again, darling. You turned the right handle of the faucet first, you always get beat if you do that._

“It was an accident.”

_Pick up the brown sponge. Good boy. Use that on the pots. Yellow sponge is for the cutlery._

The voice asked questions, too. Much like the ones he asked himself. Carlos always tried to find a solution for them, to come up with a response. The voice liked it when he did that and usually moved on to something else.

_You’re gonna die here. You will be on this island when you die. Why not now? Why not right now?_

But he never had an answer for that one. And he wished he did. Instead, the voice just kept asking it.

It was the same thing, day after day after horrible day. Wake up, clean, get hit, run to the market, get hit, avoid the gangs, get hit. Day after day, night after night. Until it wasn’t.

 

**x/x**

 

What started out as a quest for a scepter turned into so much more than he bargained for.  

The morning after their failed attempt to please their parents, Carlos woke up early, as usual, and crept quietly to the kitchen to fix himself some lumpy oatmeal. Looking around to make sure his mother wasn’t anywhere nearby, he turned on the tap and let it run for a few moments, waiting for the brown water to turn a little clearer. Cruella hated it when he wasted water, saying the brown stuff was perfectly drinkable for him, but sometimes, when she wasn't around, he liked to give himself a treat. He was humming softly, watching the faucet slowly spit a more translucent steam when the the knocking started.

“Carlos! Hey, Carlos! You there? Come out here!”

His eyes widened and he shut off the water, sprinting to the large front door and sliding on the floor he’d waxed earlier that week. Looking up the stairs anxiously, Carlos wrenched open the door. “Are you fucking insane??”

Jay, who was standing on the porch, grinned. “Maybe. Though if I recall, the crazy one was your parent, not mine.”

“And speaking of the crazy one,”  Carlos hissed, lowering his voice. “If you wake her up, she’ll murder me.”

“But why would she murder you? I’m the one -”

“Because that's what she does,” Carlos insisted, shutting the door a little more in a vain attempt to muffle the noise. “She’ll find a way to make it my fault, mark my words.”

The thief looked a little more apologetic, lowering his voice the tiniest bit. “Was last night rough?” The younger boy just stared at him, hiding his raw hands behind his back in a move to keep Jay from seeing the effects of Cruella’s punishment the previous night. He noticed anyway, and Carlos supposed that a thief was prone to seeing every little thing. “She get your hands?”

“With a belt.”

“Just wear a pair of leather gloves,” Jay said, looking like he might have experience with the injury. “No one will notice; it'll protect ‘em, too. I think I can steal a salve downtown in the marketplace. Not perfect, but it takes some of the pain away.”

“You would do that? For me?” Carlos wasn't used to anyone offering to help him with anything, much less steal for him, and certainly not something so valuable. He often had to concoct his own medical reliefs by swiping stuff from the (minuscule) science lab in the dungeons.

Jay nodded, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I figured after yesterday’s scepter debacle, you and the girls are kinda in my circle.”

His circle. Carlos had never had a circle. The idea made him blush and smile shyly. “Oh. Well… thank you. I mean, not thank you! I didn't mean -”

“It's good,” the thief laughed. “Don't worry about it. Can you come out? I was gonna swing by the girls’ places and see if they could get away for awhile.”

Looking over his shoulder, Carlos debated. His mother wasn’t awake yet. If he left now, he could avoid getting punished this morning, but he’d probably be in for a worse round that night. Jay was standing right here, though, and he’d come by for a reason other than attempting to swipe valuables from Cruella’s fur closet. Hell, he’d even offered to put those talents to use and get Carlos something for his hands. Finally, the thought of pain relief won out. If he could save whatever the stuff was, he might be able to use it for weeks, maybe even replicate it if he could figure out what they’d used as the working ingredient.

“Yeah, okay, okay, I’m coming. Hang on one second.” He ran upstairs quietly, grabbing his leather gloves. It was both exhilarating and panic-inducing to be completely disobeying his mother like this.

“Worried about disappointing her?” Jay grinned when the boy had returned.

Carlos nodded some, and they started off towards the center of the island, leaving Hell Hall behind. “Yeah, a little.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been there. The more you disappoint them, the easier it gets.”

Down in the marketplace, Carlos hung back a little, watching as Jay smiled at a bunch of hook-nosed witches at their stall. “Hello ladies,” Jay grinned, keeping eye contact them while his hands moved independently, carefully perusing the homemade products bottled in old Auradon containers. Carlos squinted, trying to read the labels. There was an assortment of recycled tubes, from coffee jars to toothpaste.

The witches tried to keep their stern composure, but as the thief struck up a conversation, they couldn't help becoming distracted. Almost everyone fell prey to Jay’s flattering banter, both the oblivious and those he’d been playing for years. After a moment or two, he gave them a nod, still smiling, and came back to Carlos, whistling some.

“You didn't grab anything.” Carlos wondered if Jay had just been messing with him; he’d probably never intended to get the salve in the first place. But the rogue just kept walking, taking the younger boy’s arm until they were sufficiently past the stall, whereupon he produced a small, metal tin. There were dents in the less-than-shiny lid, but when the thief placed it in Carlos’ outstretched palm, the white-haired boy’s face lit up brighter than floors he scrubbed.

“I always grab something.” Jay folded his arms, his smile smug and proud. He liked the way Carlos was so excited about a simple tin. The witches were among some of the easiest to swipe from on the island, so it seemed he could pick up a dirty rock off the ground and it would please the white-haired boy.

“Is this all for me?” Carlos was still staring at the tin, as if it might disappear if he blinked or looked away, his voice breathless and high.

“Yeah,” Jafar’s son laughed. “Now hurry up and use it, we gotta go grab Evie and Mal. I have more work to do today.”

As Carlos opened the lid, almost ceremoniously, he carefully slid off his gloves, revealing the deep, angry slashes on his hands. Jay raised an eyebrow, noting the other scars littering his hands. The marks weren't anything to gawk at on the island, of course, but it was the sheer number and depth of the white lines that held his gaze. Cruella’s son let out a soft whimper as he spread the clear stuff from the tin onto the flayed skin.

“Like magic, right?” Jay watched, using his body to  shield Carlos from view. The last thing they needed was someone jumping them, especially because the younger boy wasn't making any effort to hide the stuff.

“There's no such thing here.” Carlos carefully pulled his gloves back on and slipped the tin into his pocket. Everyone knew that magic belonged on the mainland, and neither of the boys had ever seen so much as a speck of pixie dust and doubted they ever would.

“Don't put the tin there,” Jay said sharply, surveying Carlos’ outfit. “That's begging a thief to just take it right out.”

“Takes one to know one,” the younger boy said under his breath, but Jay only laughed.

“Yeah, exactly. Do you have a pocket in your hem?”

When Carlos shook his head, Jay looked around some, lowering his voice. “Give it to me. I have some secret pockets. People here are usually looking for a quick steal.”

The white-haired boy’s eyes widened, and he clutched the tin tightly, shaking his head. “It's okay. I'll take my chances.”

“Carlos, I’ll give it back. I just don't want anyone to take it!” Jay kept his hand out. “Look, thieve’s honor. I stole it for you, remember?”

Not that he really had a choice, but eventually Carlos caved and gave him the precious new salve. The dark-haired boy nodded, tucking it carefully inside one of his hidden pockets. “It's safe as can possibly be on this island.”

Cruella’s son wasn't sure he believed that - Jay was still a thief and his tarnished reputation didn’t exactly reassure him. If the older boy so desired, he could take off and leave him stranded in an instant. But after a moment, Jay gave him another cocky grin, and it was clear his intentions were (for the time being) fairly transparent. “Okay, let’s go get the girls.”

“When will I be home?” Carlos was still looking nervously at the place where he’d seen Jay tuck the salve. “I still have chores.”

“Before noon, at least,” Jay smiled, starting to walk towards the Evil Queen’s castle. “You'll have all those chores done by sundown.”

Except he wouldn't. Because unbeknownst to either of them, their parents were already shoving their childrens’ few possessions into bags and convening at the Bargain Castle, as directed by the Mistress of Darkness herself. By the time sundown came, the villain kids would be somewhere else entirely.

A land of happily ever afters, of princes, of queens, of magic.

A place called Auradon. 


	6. Divine Abode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos is introduced to chocolate and Jay is introduced to Carlos' demons

>  " _Paradise is open to all kind hearts”_
> 
> _~Pierre Jean de Beranger_
> 
> * * *

 

 

At one point, Jay would’ve considered stealing a glass jar with only a few cracks a piece of luck. Now, his entire perception of the thing had changed. Auradon was bright and warm and most importantly, buzzing with careless rich kids whose pockets were bursting with valuables.

“Oh, I’m gonna make so much off these haves. They’re rolling in it.” He emptied his pockets onto the bed, thrilled to see how much he’d gathered just on the walk up to their new dorm room. “Seriously, how thick can these guys get? They didn’t even pat us down.” He looked over at Carlos, who was staring in awe at the flatscreen in their room.

“Jay… look…” Cruella’s son ran his hands carefully over the TV, his eyes wide with wonder. “I read about these models, you know. Flat and thin. Did you have a TV? 'Course you did, your father owned a junk shop. Ours were always curved and fuzzy, right? But not this one, Jay, the picture is going to be smooth!”

The thief was a little taken aback. He'd never heard Carlos _gush_ about anything before. In fact, Cruella's son had said more words in the past half hour than Jay had heard him say over the course of their entire lives on the island. He'd always assumed Carlos was just shy, but briefly, he let himself wonder whether a more fitting word was guarded. Maybe Carlos just had too many walls up to ever let words slip through. Jay didn’t let the idea remain in his head for long, though. He wasn't here to become empathetic or for self discovery. No, the thief was here to take over, to perpetrate evil, to bring home a score so big his father wouldn’t ever have to count his coins ever again. “When you’re done drooling over there, why don’t you come over and help me sort this shit.”

Carlos looked over at the growing pile of goods. “You stole all that?”

Jay grinned proudly, nodding, tossing the white-haired boy a phone. “Here. You can have this.”

But the boy shook his head, coming over and dropping it back on the pile. “Um… it’s okay. I don’t want it.”

The thief raised an eyebrow. “Just a second ago, you were literally hugging the screen on the wall. And you’re turning down a phone? These kids don’t bother protecting their stuff at all, it was an easy grab.”

Carlos shrugged, biting his lip, his voice soft. “They’ve never had to, I guess. I… don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right to take from them.”

At that, Jay actually snorted. “Really? Since when have you ever cared about _right_? Car, I stole you something just this morning!” He pulled out the tin of salve he was still carrying, handing it back to Carlos. “Remember? We didn’t pay for this, you watched me take it!”

The younger boy nodded, taking the tin, but he still hadn’t torn his eyes away from the stuff on the bed. “Yeah, but that was the Isle. We were supposed to steal. The people here think we’re innocent.”

“Yeah, well, that’s their mistake, isn’t it?” Jay laughed, pulling on his jacket. “Come on, we’re only gonna be here a few days. Might as well make bank off the royalty while we can.”

“Where are you going?”

The rogue laughed, adjusting his beanie. “To comb the pockets of this joint.”

“Mal and Evie said they were going to come over and plan soon,” Carlos reminded him, leaning on the table some. “We need to find that wand.”

“Yeah, I got it, I’ll be back in time.” Jay was still standing in the door, waiting to leave.

“And don’t get caught! If we get sent back now, my moth - our parents will murder us.” He didn’t know why he was suddenly so against Jay plundering. Or why he was trying to convince him to stay.

“You’re talking to the best thief on the island.” Jay gave him a wink. “I think I’ll be fine. Oh, and pup?”

Carlos’ head snapped up, worried that he had done something wrong or offended Jay by doubting him. “Yeah? What’d I do?”

The thief gave him a smug grin, leaning on the doorframe. “Nothing, just thought I’d let you know that you’ve still got chocolate all over your face.”

“And you didn't tell me?!” Carlos yelped, running to the bathroom. They'd let him walk around looking like a child, embarrassing himself on the very first afternoon! Sure enough, when he looked in the mirror, his lips and chin were stained dark with the stuff. After several minutes of cursing and scrubbing at his mouth, he glanced behind him at the shower. Carlos had heard about the Auradon showers, the miraculous indoor rainstorms that actually ran hot water. How would it feel to be clean? To spend an afternoon without a layer of oily grime and dirt coating his skin?

Making up his mind, Carlos decided to test it out. What was the harm? And maybe later, he'd try to master some of those video games. After all, Jay was right: they didn't have much time here. And if he wanted to spend his time stealing, Carlos decided that he wanted to enjoy the sheer luxury Auradon offered. Glancing one more time in the mirror, he shook his head and made a mental note to try and eat chocolate more carefully.

Either that or force Jay to help him out the next time.  

 

**x/x**

 

_“Don't run, Spotty! We just want to play with you!”_

_He didn't want to listen to them. He wanted to run far, far away. He had to get home. He had to get home before the sun went down._

_“Oh, look, he's_ shaking _with anticipation,” purred Harry, rubbing his hook close to Carlos’ face. His throat was closed up; he couldn't speak at all. Harry dug the hook into Carlos’ neck, leaning in closer, and when Cruella’s son whimpered, he smirked. “I like it when you're in pain.”_

 

Jay heard the noises before he was fully awake. In his half-awake daze, he figured someone was trying to break into his house. “There’s twenty-four locks,” he mumbled, hoping his dad wouldn't force him to get up. “It’ll be fine.” But when the noises got louder, he couldn’t ignore them. Irritated, Jay opened his eyes. For a moment, he was disoriented. Where the hell was he? Had someone kidnapped him?

“I’m sorry…. I’m sorry… I know… I’m trying… PLEASE DON’T PUT THAT THERE.”

Now Jay was awake. “Shit.” He was in Auradon. That was Carlos, in the bed next to him. And it sounded like he was having a nightmare. “Carlos…wake up…”

But the whimpers didn’t stop. In fact, they sounded like they were getting worse.

 

_Suddenly his mother was there, her furs making that awful sound they always did sweeping against the ground, the green smoke from her cigarette clouding his vision. “I told you to be home early, my darling Carlos.”_

_“I’m sorry!”_

_“Get up. Don’t apologize, it’s pathetic.” His mother seemed to be decided what to do to him, her eyes glittering with malice. “You realize you force me to punish you, don’t you, baby? You do this to yourself, to me, and I wish you didn't.”_

_“I’m - I know. I know.”_

_“And you’ve been such a bad boy, Carlos. First home late, then apologizing. I just don’t even know where to start, you know I hate doing this to you.”_

 

“No…. please…. I'll be better… IT’S MY FAULT!”

The thief didn’t want to sit up. He could stay up all night, no problem, but once he fell asleep, he despised getting interrupted. That said, the more Carlos writhed, the more he screamed, the harder it was for Jay to close his eyes. He told himself it was because of the noise, but there was also a tightness settling in his chest. Everytime the boy screamed, Jay felt angry. But not at Carlos. At whatever or whomever was making him so scared.

“IT’S MY FAULT! I KNOW IT’S MY FAULT!”

Throwing aside the blankets, Jay got out of bed and went over to the younger boy’s bed, trying to untangle him from the sheets he’d managed to get wrapped around his ankles. “Shh… hang on…”

Carlos’ eyes opened, but he didn’t seem to recognize Jay. Instead, he lashed out, trying to push the thief away, crawling backwards. “I’VE LEARNED MY LESSON! I WON’T DO IT AGAIN.”

“Carlos? Pup? Hey, it’s me. It’s Jay. It’s just a nightmare, this isn’t real. It’s not real.”

Slowly, the terror on his face slipped away and he curled into a ball, his screams sounding more like sobs with every gasp. Jay didn’t know what to do. He’d woken the boy up, hadn’t he? He could go back to bed, his work was done. And besides, it wasn’t like the younger boy was in any danger, so why the hell was he still standing there?

“J-Jay?” Carlos was still curled up in a woeful little knot, his voice broken and cracking. “Where are we?”

“Auradon.” Jay answered. Why was he sitting on the edge of the boy’s bed? He was free to go, to return to his own. Nothing was keeping him here. “You okay?”

Carlos’ shoulders shook some as he nodded. “Y-yes.”

“Are you saying that because it’s what you’re supposed to say? Or because you are?”

The younger boy didn’t answer.

“Look, I know we didn’t get the wand tonight,” Jay continued, hating himself. “But we’re gonna find another way. Trust me.” His pride was still bruised from his failure to steal the wand earlier. Thieving was his area of expertise and yet, he’d screwed it up for all of them.

“It wasn’t your fault,” came the small voice.

“What?” It came out rather aggressively.

“The wand. The siren. You didn’t know about it. It wasn’t your fault.”

The rogue was a little alarmed at how easily Carlos had seemingly read his mind. “Mind your own business. It was Mal’s fault, not mine. She knows that I do whatever she tells me not to, just to spite her.”

“Okay.” Carlos looked up at him finally, his cheeks shiny from the tears. “But if you _were_ blaming yourself, just know that any of us could’ve done the same thing.”

“You mean, fuck up like I did?” Jay’s voice was still harsh and somewhat cold, but something twinged inside him as he watched Carlos flinch a bit. He really should lay off the kid.

“Don't say that.” The younger boy looked up at him, pleadingly. “You didn't fuck up, you did the best you could.”

Maybe it was just the way Carlos was trying so hard absolve him, but Jay deflated. “I won't be the reason our parents hate us.”

“You mean, more than they already do?” Cruella’s son bit his lip, then reached out slowly and touched Jay’s shoulder. The older boy tensed at the contact, but after a moment, decided he liked the gentle hand there.

“It's not like we’re a team or anything, the four of us, right?” the thief asked, remembering his father’s words before he'd left.

“‘course not.” Carlos kept his hand on Jay’s shoulder, shaking his head. “This is just means to an end.”

So it was okay, then. Comforting Carlos like this. All of it was part of his plan. No matter what Mal wanted to do with that wand, Jay knew he'd have to find a way to give it to Jafar first. After all, there was no team in I.

“We’re gonna make it out of this,” Jay said quietly, twisting the ring on his finger. The words didn't match his thoughts, and to be completely honest, he wasn't sure which he believed more. But looking down at the white-haired boy, he saw the way Carlos’ eyes fluttered and observed the stillness that had finally settled in his body, so he just kept talking. “I don't know how, but we will. It's all going to work out.”

Next to him, Carlos yawned sleepily, crawling closer to Jay and hugging his arm. The thief was taken aback, his heart pounding some. No one had ever done that except to try and put him in a headlock. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but Jay felt himself hug the boy back.

“Goodnight, Carlos.”

“‘Night, Jay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy with some of the responses I've gotten regarding this story! It really is so much fun to write these two (and also emotionally intense). Stay tuned!


	7. Half Pint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos is small and Jay changes the subject with his pup's new favorite sweet

>   _"If I'm not so large as you,_
> 
> _You are not so small as I,_
> 
> _And not half so spry”_
> 
> _~ Ralph Waldo Emerson_

* * *

 “You must be the new kids.” A tall man with a clipboard met the boys coming out of their Remedial Goodness class.

Jay and Carlos glanced at each other, nodding some. “Who wants to know?” Jay folded his arms, looking the man up and down.

“I’m the assistant coach for the Fighting Knights,” the man said, pointing down the hill to the field. “The Headmistress just sent for me. She said she thinks you two would be a good addition to the team.”

“Team?” the thief snorted. “What sort of team?” Not that it mattered. He didn't do teams of any kind.

In response, the coach handed him a card with three numbers punched on it. The boys had already received similar ones earlier that day when they’d collected their locker assignments.

“Oh, no it’s okay.” Carlos tried to give his card back. “We already got these this morning.”

The coach laughed, shaking his head. “Gym lockers, boys. These are your combinations. You’ll find your practice gear inside.”

The locker room was much cleaner than the dungeons on the Isle, but that was to be expected. This was the changing room of princes, not criminal offspring. Carlos opened his locker, taking out the bulky gear and examining it, swallowing hard. “Is this much padding necessary?”

“Hell yeah,” one of the other guys in the room laughed, muttering. “Geez, the midget is gonna get slaughtered.”

Jay clenched his fists, lunging towards the owner of the slur, but Carlos grabbed him just in time. “Jay, Jay!” he hissed, pulling him back with all his strength. “Chill, it’s fine. Just help me figure out how to put this stuff on.”  

After a moment of hesitation, Jay huffed, turning back to Carlos. “Why can’t I pummel him? He’s a dick, they're all -”

“Because we’re trying to keep a low profile.” Carlos held up a helmet, looking it over. “Ugh, this looks way too big.”

“Those guys are dead once I get out there.” Jay wasn’t even really listening. “Let’s change quickly. I don’t wanna share the air with their pompous asses any longer than I have to.”

At the word “change”, Carlos looked around nervously, gathering up his practice gear. “I… uh… am gonna do it in the bathroom stall, okay?” His eyes flicked around the room some, examining the other boys’ scarless bodies. His own would look stand out like a piece of rotten fruit on the breakfast banquet table next to any of these perfect prince physiques. Besides, he didn't think he could handle the questions that were sure to come.

The thief eyed him, squinting. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a horrible liar, you know that?”

Rolling his eyes, the younger boy walked back to the bathroom stalls, maneuvering all the bulky stuff into a single (and narrow) stall. Breathing deeply, he tried to focus just on changing.

_Everyone's disgusted by you, baby. How can you live with yourself?_

Now that he was away from the Isle, the voice sounded strangely like Hers. And his skin crawled, too, as if she was standing right behind him, just waiting for him to mess up. Carlos could practically feel his mother’s breath on the back of his neck, his heart palpitating whenever he turned around. It took a lot to convince himself that she was still a victim of the barrier.

_Aw, the little boy is hiding from the others. That's why you're back here, isn't it? To hide, to cower?_

“No,” he mumbled. “Well... maybe.”

After what felt like ages, someone pounded on the door.

“Hurry up!” It was Jay. “What’s taking so long?”

“I don’t know how to put this stuff on!” Carlos jerked his head up, still trying to figure out the padding. “Almost done.”

Jay grinned when the younger boy emerged. “Your shorts are on backwards.”

“No, they’re just really loose,” Carlos mumbled, blushing bright red and adjusting himself. “All of this stuff is too big.”

“Either that or you’re just too small,” Jay laughed, pounding the other boy’s back. “Come on, half-pint. Let’s go kick -”

“- some ass, yeah, I got it, thanks.”  

 

**x/x**

 

Carlos had never been more sore in his life.

Once he returned to his room, he collapsed on the floor. He’d been knocked over so many times by so many large, hulking boys that he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to get up again. Carlos wriggled out of his jacket, closing his eyes. “Ughhhhh… I can’t…”

“Can’t what? Also, Car, why are you on the floor?”

Carlos’s eyes opened quickly, realizing Jay had just walked in. “Tourney practice. I can’t move."

“I saw you get knocked over a few dozen times.”

“Yeah, by you!” Carlos winced, pushing himself up some. “You literally stepped on me!”

“My bad.” Jay threw his backpack down on the ground, looking very unapologetic. “Coach says he wants to see me tomorrow. Discuss the rule book or something. Personally, I think the game is pretty simple. Knock those guys down, dodge those weird shooty-things, and score. You'd think all the free time they seem to have over here would yield something a little more complicated. I'm already the best out there; I bet I make the starting lineup.”

Carlos laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, the next star player is the son of Jafar. Maybe you'll find space in your busy schedule to make a game or two, I bet you could squeeze it right between burning the country to the ground and imprisoning its leaders.”

The thief’s usual arrogant smirk flicked some and he turned to his dresser, rifling through the drawers. Carlos bit his lip, worried he'd upset the older boy,  but a moment later, Jay’s smile returned. “Ben says he's gonna work with you tomorrow.”

“Uh… why?”

“You know,” Jay switched his shirt, putting his hair up in a messy top knot. “Tourney. That way you can make the team, too.”

“Oh.” Just as long as he didn't end up in band. He'd never hear the end of it and if his mother found out, he’d have to deal with her painful ridiculing about it for the rest of his life.

“Hey pup?” Jay lay down on his bed, clearly not having the same standards of sanitation. “Why didn’t you change with the rest of us today?”

Carlos looked up at him, making a face. “First of all, why are you on your bed? We haven’t showered yet.”

The thief looked at him like he was crazy. “Fuck, man, do you think I care? What's the point of a bed if you can't sit on it? And don’t change the subject, seriously, what happened back there?”

The younger boy shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Oh, so that’s normal, then? You had to piss and just brought all your stuff with you?”

Carlos sat up, lifting up his shirt some to expose the scars on his abdomen and back. Jay looked at them for a moment, his eyes tracing the divots and discolorations in the flesh, nodding finally. He didn’t ask for any further explanation, just flashed a small smile and changed the subject. Taking out a piece of chocolate he’d swiped from someone’s bag, Jay unwrapped it. “Apparently, all those tiny colored tin wrappers we found in the trash barges came from little pieces of chocolate. Go figure.”

“I want some.”

The older boy grinned, loving the way Carlos’ eyes came back to life. “No way, I snatched this one myself. And it’s the only one I’ve got.”

“Give me a bite!” Carlos came closer, laughing.

“The whole thing is only a bite!”  

“I’ll only take the corner!” the younger boy begged, still laughing. He came up closer to Jay, his hands carefully feeling around for other chocolates the thief might be hoarding. “Ahaha! You liar! You do have more! They’re right here!”

He grabbed a whole handful before the dark-haired boy could stop him, running gleefully to the far side of the room. “These are mine now! And I’m not sharing!”

“You won’t be able to eat all of those by yourself!” Jay was too busy laughing to be angry about the smaller kid taking the rest of his store. Besides, he could get more anytime he wanted.

“Watch me,” was all Cruella’s son replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, thank you to those who comment! It brings such a happiness checking out the thoughtful and enthusiastic responses to this story :) :) Another chapter coming soon!


	8. Bête Noire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos makes four-legged friend and Jay makes the room light up

> " _Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the main sources of cruelty._
> 
> _To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom.”_
> 
> _~Bertrand Russell_

* * *

 

 “What’s he doing?” Carlos sounded slightly anxious as he watched the dog at his feet. “Why’d he bring me that?”

Jay laughed, picking up the ball that Dude had dropped. “It’s okay, he’s not gonna hurt you.”

“I know that.” Carlos had been holding that dog nearly all day, trying desperately to come to terms with that idea that his mother was wrong about these creatures and their wet little noses. “He’s not gonna hurt me. He won’t lap up my blood like water.”

The thief nodded, tossing the ball a little ways a way for Dude to chase. “See? I think it’s a game.”

“A game?”

Jay laughed, nodding. A warm breeze blew gently across the campus, rustling the leaves just barely. It was the kind of peaceful afternoon that the Isle kids had only heard about until now.

“You throw it, he brings it back.”

When Dude returned with the ball, Carlos hesitantly reached down, eyeing the dog’s bared teeth. “Good boy…. drop it?”

Dude growled again, but eventually let go of the thing, his tail wagging. Cruella’s son smiled back, and it was his turn to toss the ball and watch him take off like a rocket.

“Look at that, he's almost as fast as you,” Jay grinned, impressed, watching Dude streak across the grass. “Hey, did that training with Ben help this morning?”

“What?” Carlos was busy getting the ball back from Dude, laughing. “Oh, uh, it was going good, I guess. Didn’t last long.” He affectionately scratched the dog’s scruffy ears.

“I can’t believe the kid who pissed his pants every time someone _mentioned_ a dog is bonding with one.” Jay shook his head, looking off wistfully. “Now I can’t use that against you.”

“My mother can’t either.” It was just an offhand comment, but the thief understood. Now there were one fewer ways for Cruella to torment him.

“Did the coach ever come talk to you?” Carlos asked, throwing the ball again. “You know, about the rulebook?”

Jay smiled, and the breeze blew a strand of his hair across his face. “I’m supposed to meet with him in ten minutes.”

“That’s cutting it close.”  

The rogue smiled widely, winking. “Isn't that what I’m good at?”

“You know, I really thought that stealing things that don’t belong to you and being an arrogant dick were what you’re good at.” Carlos jumped backwards, laughing, to avoid the playful punch he knew was coming.

“I will take you down, de Vil.” Jay grinned, grabbing him anyway and putting him in a headlock. “Better watch your mouth.”

Carlos laughed harder, trying to push the older boy off. “Take a joke, won’t you?”

“Hey, Jay!”

Another voice cut into their spirited ribbing, and they both looked up. One of the boys from the tourney team was standing a few feet away.

“Yeah?” Jay let Carlos go, but gave him a look. “You’re still in for it.”

“Coach says he’s ready for you!” the boy called, pointing in the direction of the field. “On the bleachers.”

“Cool.” Jay gathered up his stuff. “See you later, Carlos.”

“Yeah, see you.” Carlos watched him go, smiling as a warm breeze ruffled his curls, and wondering for a moment what the weather was back on the island. Then, he laughed sadly, because he already knew.

Grey, wet, and cold. It never changed.

 

**x/x**

 

“Hey, Carlos!”

Evie opened the door, smiling. Then her eyes widened some. “Uh… that’s… you’re holding…”

“A dog.” He smiled proudly, bouncing Dude in his arms. “I know.”

“M!” Evie gasped, looking over her shoulder. “M! Come look!”

“What is it? Oh, neat, Spotty found himself a friend.” Mal sounded less than interested.

“Don't mind her.” Evie pulled him into the room, petting Dude. “She's in a really bad mood today.”

“Wand troubles?” Carlos could tell by the look on Mal’s face that he'd hit the nail on the head.

“That, and the constant stream of Auradon girls asking for magical hair.” Evie smiled at him, looking around. “Where’s Jay? Oh, god, is he the dog??” She backed away hurriedly, looking closely at Dude.

“No, no,” Carlos laughed, taking a seat on the floor at the foot of Mal’s bed. It probably wasn't the safest spot, but it was closer to the outlet and his new computer needed a charge. “He's having some meeting with the tourney coach. This is Dude.”

“From what I've gathered,” Evie said, sitting down at her sewing machine. “Tourney is a bunch of guys crashing into each other with a side of tactless showboating.”

“Oh, Jay will fit right in then.” Mal flipped another page in her spellbook with a little more force than needed.

“You gonna join the team, Carlos?” Evie asked, smiling at him.

He thought for a moment, then shrugged, opening his computer. “Not sure yet. Maybe. Depends if they want me.”

_They won't want you. Nobody wants you, baby._

“I know that.”

“What?” Evie looked confused, squinting at him. “What do you know? And why wouldn't they want you?”

_Because you're small and weak and useless._

“Because I'm small and weak and useless.” He looked up at her, listening to his computer power on.

“Oh, Carlos, no you're not!” Evie shook her head, stopping her sewing machine for a moment. “You're so not any of those things!”

_But you are. And you know it._

Awhile later, when Jay burst into the girls dorm, it was as if a rush of vibrant energy came in with him. He was smiling more than Carlos had ever seen, his face bright and crinkled in laughter. Blue wasn't something Jay wore often, especially such a bright shade, but for a moment, Cruella’s son let himself wonder why. It was clearly a good color for him, all it took was one look at his new tourney jersey to see that.  

And as Carlos smiled to himself, a faint pink rising to his cheeks, he marveled at the way the sun seemed to shine a little brighter when Jay walked into a room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm just going to keep thanking you guys! Thanks for reading, thanks to those of you who comment, and those who leave kudos!


	9. Sinners and Saints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jay finally gives in and Carlos lets the thief inside his nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title of this chapter is a Hamilton lyric. #sorrynotsorry

> _ “The phoenix must burn to emerge.”  _
> 
> _ ~Janet Fitch _
> 
> * * *

 

Jay didn't like the feeling in his chest. More specifically, he didn't like the feeling in his chest when he looked at Carlos. The kid was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Dude on his lap, and staring off at nothing. He'd been quiet ever since the four of them had encountered Mulan’s girl in the kitchens earlier that evening, his body curling in on itself, and the walls he’d let down a bit were slowly being put back into place. 

What Jay wanted to do was ask him what was wrong. To comfort him. To reassure him that they were all gonna make it out okay. But lately, and much to the thief’s chagrin, he’d been struggling to say them to the boy. Jay had been sweet talking all his life, the compliments and lies would swirl so perfectly in his mouth before dripping off his tongue like honey. So why wouldn't these? Why were these words of all words getting stuck in his throat, lodging there and making every swallow a challenge of its own? 

Part of him, the tiniest bit of his brain that he tried to suppress, warned him that he was getting attached. And he couldn't do that, not even the tiniest bit. Jay couldn't let himself fall prey to those white curls and honey eyes. After all, he told himself, they finally had a plan of action. By as soon as next week, the four of them wouldn't need each other anymore. 

But Carlos still hadn't moved, his hand moving slowly across his dog’s fur, staring at that same patch of carpet. And it took everything in him not to stare. 

The thief rolled over, closing his eyes and wishing sleep was like a light switch. If he had a working genie lamp, that would be a good wish.  After endless riches, of course. Unable to help himself, he looked over his shoulder for just another moment, hoping the younger boy would just move or say something or even lie down so that he could at least fall asleep. It was selfish, really, to keep them both up like this. 

“Yes...”

The words were the first he'd spoken since sitting down, and so of course, Jay tried to pretend he wasn't listening.

“I know… I will… I swear.” 

What the hell? There wasn't anyone there. He was responding to an invisible person. 

“You’ve told me… you said that… I listened.” His voice was soft and much lower than Jay had ever heard it. 

After what felt like another hour of the younger boy’s muttering, the thief couldn't take it. There wasn't anyone else around and, in a week, Carlos would probably go back to fearing him. No one would ever know. “Hey, ‘Los?” He was surprised at how gentle his voice sounded, he hadn't meant it to be. 

Carlos brought his head up some, looking over. His eyes had a glassy, glazed over look and there were already shadows under his eyes. “Hmm?” 

“You’re kinda talking to nobody.” Jay sat up, noticing how the younger boy’s leg was bouncing anxiously. “Can't you sleep?” 

Cruella’s son shook his head slowly, like Jay’s words took a thousand years to register. Like he was trapped in his own head. “I’m not tired.” 

Without thinking, Jay got up and grabbed an empty glass off his side table, filling it up at the tap in the bathroom. Carefully coming over to the bed, he pressed the cup into the boy’s hands. “Drink something.” After a moment, he helped Carlos lift the glass to his lips and sip. Up close, the younger boy’s forehead was shining with tiny beads of perspiration.  “Carlos, you can talk to me, you know. It's okay if you can't, just… if you need to. Was it what Lonnie said? That she thought our parents, you know, cared for us?” 

The white-haired boy’s hands shook some as he lowered the glass, and he was pale under his freckles. It seemed to take him a moment to form coherent words. “Yes. And the voice… her voice. She tells me things, she’s always talking, make it stop.” 

“Her voice? As in… Cruella?” 

Carlos flinched visibly, a gasp catching at the back of his throat. His trembling got worse, clinging to Jay as his nails of one hand dug into the older boy’s arm, while the other desperately clawed at his ears. 

“Hey, hey,” Jay gently pried the younger’s boy’s fingers from his skin, and helped him lower his other hand. “I’m sorry, I won't say her name. What kinds of things does she tell you?”

Carlos took a shaky breath, wiping his forehead. “About me… and… my mistakes...”

Jay hated the way his first instinct was the bring the boy into a gentle hug, the way he pushed his curls back, the way he made him drink another sip of water. His dad would be so disappointed. “Tell me.” 

All it took was a few gasps before the younger boy started crying, his shoulders shaking. There were words in there, too, but Jay couldn't have picked them out if he'd tried. That wasn't the important part, though. Carlos just needed a good cry and someone willing to listen. After a long time, his tears finally slowed and the thief could understand some of the fractured phrases. “... hit… and I'm not… I…. she’ll kill me… I can't fail… I can't fail… so weak….” 

“I hear you… I understand, ‘Los, I get it. I really do.” The thief held him some, letting the boy cry on him awhile longer. “My dad locks me out of the house when he’s angry at me. He uses the one lock that I haven't figured out how to pick.” He could feel Carlos’ sobs starting to slow, and he knew the younger boy was listening. “As a kid, I used to spend hours trying to bust that thing open, but I never could. I thought it was magic or something. See, when Pops gets really angry, he starts yelling, and my stubborn ass just screams right back until one of us - me - gets thrown out. My house is always full of shouting.” 

“So is mine.” The smaller boy’s voice was hoarse, his breath still coming in sharp spasms. “And cigarette s-smoke… so much smoke. There are s-so many times when I just can't breathe… and I choke… but I don’t die, even when I try. And then she puts them out… puts them out, Jay…. on…. on me. And I'm so small… so other, older kids can… do stuff….” Carlos dissolved into gasps again, and Jay rubbed his shoulders, breathing deeply. He knew what kind of stuff the younger boy meant. 

“Like that day I beat up those guys? The ones chasing you?” Jay recalled how terrified the white-haired boy had seemed, a level beyond the fear of getting hit a few times. 

Carlos nodded, sniffing. “I was… so grateful, I think. And I know that sounds bad… and you didn't even really care that much… but… I couldn't… let them…” 

Jay nodded, listening, continuing to rub the base of Carlos’ neck. “But I do care. I care now, at least. And I'm not gonna let that happen again.” 

“Even if we go back?” 

“Especially when we go back.” 

There was a long silence as they both sat there, wondering what the hell had gotten into them. Jay making promises he couldn't keep, and Carlos knowing all that full well, but trusting him anyway.

“Just… breathe with me, okay?” And even though he was even more certain than ever that he'd gotten in too deep, at that moment, Jay didn't even care. The only thing on his mind was helping Carlos breathe again. 

As Cruella’s son copied Jay’s breaths, his body trembling, the boys sat in silence. There was too much on their minds to sort through and rationalize, so they just didn't. Eventually, Carlos’ inhales evened out, and he stopped gasping enough to clear his throat. “Thanks…  for listening.” 

The thief nodded, looking down at him. “Yeah, ‘course. Sorry we’ve got such shitty lives.” 

The younger boy’s nervous energy had finally subsided some, but as Jay lay back on the bed, Carlos didn't let go, falling asleep right next to him. 

And surprisingly, Jay didn't mind at all. 


	10. Crown of Laurels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jay makes good on his promise and Carlos tastes victory pizza for the first time

>   _“Teamwork begins by building trust._
> 
> _And the only way to do that is to overcome our need for invulnerability._
> 
> _~ Patrick Lencioni_

* * *

 

 “Tourney day!”

Carlos jumped a little in the shower as the sudden pounding on the door interrupted his somewhat sleepy morning thoughts.

“Carlos, hurry up!” It was Jay. “We’ve got a big day. Open the door.”

“It’s unlocked.” Carlos shook his head, rolling his eyes. The steam from his shower curled up the side of the shower curtain and along his freckled arms. He heard Jay come in, and felt the inrush of cold air.

“Holy shit,” he heard the thief cough. “Why’s it so steamy in here?”

“Because I like hot showers, what’re you gonna do about it?” Carlos let the water run down his face and arms. On the Isle, hot water was impossible to come by unless heated on the stove or near a fire. Instant hot water? Forget about it. He’d bathed in the same wash basin as his mother’s clothes since before he could remember, and the lukewarm water always smelled a little too strongly of product to make him feel sanitary. All those harsh detergents had always irritated his skin beyond belief.

“Did I tell you? Coach says he has your jersey for you, he’ll give it to you before the game.” Jay sounded like he had a toothbrush in his mouth. “He asked what number, and I didn't have you right there, so I had to make a split second decision. I told him one hundred and one, hope that flies.”

_Doesn’t matter. You’re still not gonna play. You’ll just be benched. You're not good enough._

Jay interpreted his silence correctly. “She’s wrong, ‘Los. She doesn't know you or what you're feeling. Those are just reflexes, habits.”

Nodding shakily, Carlos watched the soap rinse away and swirl down the drain. It was strange to feel so clean all the time, and to see clear water run down the drain instead of a layer of silt. “How'd you know she was talking to me?”

“Because it’s like you’ve left for a hot sec.” There was the sound of the sink running. “And that’s not her talking to you, it's just a voice that sounds like hers. And I know you think you’re not good enough, but you’ll see. You’re gonna play today, I’m sure of it.”

Even though he knew Jay was just saying that to make him feel better, Carlos smiled some. “Really?”

“Yeah, ‘course” Jay’s voice assured him. “We’ve all seen how hard you practice. Now seriously, get out. It’s my turn to shower.”  

Carlos laughed. “Have some patience, won’t you? We’re only gonna be in Auradon for a little bit longer, and I intend to use all the hot water I can get.”

“How about this,” Jay chuckled. “When we invade Auradon, I’ll steal you a shower so you can have all the hot water you want.”

“That’s not… how it works.” Carlos shook his head, laughing. It would be a huge waste of time to explain the physics of the pipes to the thief, and they both knew it. Turning off the shower reluctantly, he wrapped his towel around his waist and pulled aside the curtain. “It’s all yours.”

Jay rolled his eyes, laughing. “Finally. I was starting to think you'd moved in there permanently.”

“Maybe I should,” the younger boy rolled his eyes, pushing his wet curls back. “And calm down, it's only been like twenty minutes.” As he walked out into the bedroom to change, Dude bounded off the bed to greet him, his tail wagging. Carlos smiled happily, picking the dog up in his arms. The little guy was always so ecstatic to see him, no matter how long he’d been gone. That kind of excitement around his arrival was something Cruella’s son wasn’t used to at all.

“Hey, bud. Today’s the big tourney game.” He scratched Dude’s ears, smiling. “I bet you’ve seen lots of tourney games, but Ben says this is an important one.”

From inside the bathroom, Carlos heard the shower turn on again. “Carlos!” called Jay. “Stop talking to your dog and get dressed! We have a prince to drug, and then a game to win.”

Carlos grinned. “If you say that any louder, he might hear you.”

When Jay emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, he found Carlos in the exact same position, still rubbing Dude all over and talking to him in soft, happy tones. 

“Unbelievable.”  

Carlos looked up and stuck out his tongue. “Oh, please. Give me a break.” He thought for a moment. “You don’t happen to have any more of that chocolate, do you?”

The thief rolled his eyes, digging through his drawers and throwing one of his shirts at the younger boy. “No.”

The white-haired boy laughed, putting it on. “You're lying. And thanks for the shirt.”

“It wasn't for -” but Jay trailed off, shaking his head, suddenly aware that the oversized tee looked kinda cute on him. "Fine, wear it. We're just gonna change in the lockers anyway. It doesn't match your color scheme of red, white, and black, though." 

"So? It's yours and I stole it." 

"You didn't steal it," the thief protested, shrugging on another shirt. "I threw it at you!" 

"I stole it," Carlos said decisively, folding his arms. His eyes narrowed, and Jay was sure there was a hint of a pouty lip. 

"Fine, think whatever you want." 

"Sucker," the white-haired boy laughed, giving Dude one last rub on the head. 

"Fucker," Jay shot back. "Now go put some pants on, I'm certainly not giving you mine." 

"Your loss."  

 

**x/x**

 

“What an unselfish play by Jay! What a team!” the announcer had shouted as the tourney game ended. The moment played over and over in the thief’s head. He’d never dreamed that the word “unselfish” and his name would ever belong in the same sentence. And even more so, that he’d be _happy_ about it.

“Another slice?” Ben was passing around yet another pizza box as the tourney team took over the entire dining hall.

“Hmm,” Carlos laughed, on his third slice. “I never realized that victory was supposed to taste like cheese and these little round circle things.” He examined one, turning it over, before popping it into his mouth.

“Carlos, you’ve never had pepperoni before?” Ben asked, raising an eyebrow. It seemed like the strangest thing in the world to him.

“Now I have.” The white-haired boy finished off the rest of his slice, licking his fingers. Jay noticed how happy he looked to be sitting with the team, and suddenly, he was so glad that he’d convinced the coach to put him in. And, despite what anyone else thought, Carlos had made a difference. He wondered whether the younger boy was thinking about his final play as much as Jay was.

“Are you gonna finish your crusts?” Carlos interrupted his thoughts, eyeing Jay’s plate hungrily.

The thief pushed it over to him, laughing. “They’re all yours.”

“Where’s Mal?” Ben looked around, as if suddenly distracted by the thought of his… new girlfriend. Jay pushed him back down before he could get up and race off. He’d been doing that every five minutes. The spelled prince was bordering on the edge of obsessive, and the thief was just about done with being his babysitter. 

“Chill,” one of the other guys said, laughing. “She went off with that other villain girl awhile ago. The blue-haired one.”

“Hey, Jay!” One of the other guys- Akiho -had come over to stand in front of him. “Can I hold the trophy?”

Normally, Jay wouldn't have let something like a championship trophy out of his hands, and defended it with fists until the bitter end. But this was Tourney MVP Jay, the guy who figured that one more unselfish play for the day couldn't possibly hurt. So he (still somewhat reluctantly) passed over the huge silver cup. Even with his newfound team mentality, the thief couldn't help bouncing his leg nervously as the other boy held the trophy and admired it, taking out his phone for a picture. Old habits were hard to break.

“Separation anxiety?” Carlos asked, grinning up at him, noticing the older boy’s familiar movements. “And Mal says I'm the anxious one.”

“Shut up,” Jay rolled his eyes, accepting the trophy again as Akiho handed it back. “I’m just saying -”

“That this is the first thing you haven’t stolen?” the younger boy offered, smiling. “That you actually _earned?”_

“What? No.” Jay shook his head. He wasn’t that crazy. Yet. “I was gonna say it’s shiny and big and belongs with me, not in the hands of some grubby-ass prince.”

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Again, I'm completely overwhelmed at the positive support this has received! Thank you so much! <3 <3


	11. Vivify a Villain

>   _“I can’t change my past, or predict my future._
> 
> _But I can shape my present.”_
> 
> _~ Armin Houman_

* * *

 

The more Carlos thought about burning this place to the ground, the worse he felt.

He was lying outside under a tree, its full branches casting just the right amount of shade to shield him from the sun. The white-haired boy watched a pair of orange butterflies bump into each other as they fluttered their gossamer wings, landing every so often on the grass or a flower. The puffy white clouds sailed smoothly through the sky, and he watched, fascinated, as they morphed slowly from one shape to another. It was, obviously, yet another fairytale afternoon. And he wished that he and his friends weren’t actively plotting to defile it.

Dude was lying down next to him, sniffing something, his nose buried deep in the grass. Evie had helped make matching clothes for the two of them, and for the first time, Carlos was proud to see something bearing his crest.

He was supposed to be studying for his Goodness test, but the warm afternoon sunshine made him sleepy, and he couldn’t help closing his eyes for a few minutes. It was so much easier to drift off to sleep in the safety of the sunlight than trying to force himself to do so in the darkness.

“Hey, sleepyhead, wake up.” Someone’s foot nudged his face.

“God dammit, Jay,” Carlos groaned, opening his eyes and rubbing the dirt off his cheek. “I was finally sleeping! And your boot is filthy!”

Jay looked a bit apologetic, but he didn’t lose the grin. “Sorry. It was just too good an opportunity to pass up.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Carlos looked around. It was unusual to see Jay walking alone. Even when he wasn't hanging with the villains kids, there was always one princess or another trailing after him, dropping their books in hopes he’d pick them up.  

“Well, Evie is… somewhere, and Mal’s on a date.”

“A date?” Carlos never, ever thought he’d hear that phrase. “With… you know who?”

The thief took a seat next to the younger boy, leaning back against the tree. Taking a tourney ball he’d nicked from the locker room, he tossed it up in the air, catching it. “You can say his name. It’s not a secret anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Carlos nodded, lying on his back, watching the ball’s movements. “Sorry. It’s just… weird, I guess. Knowing we fabricated the -”

“Okay, you can’t say _that_!” Jay said, leaning down to cover the other boy’s mouth. “Hush up.” In response, Carlos tried to bite his fingers, prompting the thief to let go. “Shit, you could’ve drawn blood! You’ve been hiding fangs in there! What do you do, sharpen them with a nail file?!”

“Aw, did that hurt the big tough tourney star?” the younger boy looked up at him, laughing, pleased it had worked.

“No way,” Jay waved a hand, his smile returning. “Everyone knows I’ve handled worse than a gentle bite.”

“Did you get whiplash turning that around so fast?” Carlos teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope.”

“I still win.”

“Do you ever wonder… what it would be like to actually live here?” The thief’s question took Carlos by surprise. He usually didn’t voice such sentimental things.

“Yeah, actually. A lot. It’s so… bright.” Carlos picked at a rip in his shorts. “It’s warm… and we can pretend to have friends… and there’s chocolate. And Dude.” He rubbed his dog on the head, and Dude nuzzled back affectionately, his tail hitting the ground gently. “You're such a good boy, and I love you so much.” Jay’s intake of breath was quite audible, and Carlos immediately felt his head spin. White flashed in front of his eyes, the ground blurring with the sky. He'd said the forbidden word, it had fallen from his lips. Flinching, he shut his eyes tight, waiting. Surely there would be some reparations, some sort of pain that went with it. Carlos could feel his hands shaking terribly, and his whole body shied away as something touched his shoulder. 

“Hey." It was just Jay, and there was a warmth to his low voice that stilled the tremors racing through Carlos' body some. “It's all good. You can say that here.”

“But… we’re not staying here… it's temporary… it's not... I can't..." 

“Yeah.” Jay’s voice was calm and even, and the younger boy would go so far as to say the the effort to comfort him was genuine. “But we’re here now. And I've seen you with that dog, you adore him.”

Carlos opened his eyes cautiously, feeling his cheeks heat up. "Really?"

"Yeah." 

Carlos couldn't explain it, but the certainty with which Jay spoke convinced him. As long as they were in Auradon, the word was safe. He picked up his dog, holding him gently and biting back tears. 

Jay smiled softly, watching him. “And Carlos?”

“Yeah?” Cruella’s son looked up, his arms still around Dude.

“We’re not pretending to be friends, okay? We are friends. All of us are. You, me, Evie, and Mal. That's not fab-something or whatever word you used earlier.”

“Fabricated,” Carlos laughed, shaking his head. “But that was when I was talking about Ben’s love -”

“Yeah, yeah, just let me be sappy for a hot sec, okay??”

Blushing, the younger boy laughed. “Sure. Have your moment. I won't tell Mal.”

Laughing, Jafar’s son flashed him another smile. “Thanks. Oh, another thing.” He paused for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching together. “If you wanna sleep now… I won't wake you up.”

Carlos wasn't sure, but he thought he could see a touch of actual guilt behind Jay’s usual smug expression. “Thanks. It's okay, I’m not upset.”

And when the older boy smiled, Cruella’s boy was sure the perfect afternoon got that much more perfect.

 


	12. Due to Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a virtual conversation leads to sleepless nights in the boys dormitory

> _ “It's like the smarter you are, the more things can scare you.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Katherine Paterson _

* * *

 

 

“Fucking hell.” Jay’s smile disappeared the moment they stepped through the door. 

“Tell me about.” Carlos collapsed on the far bed, with Dude still in his arms, whispering soft comforting words into his soft ears. 

Now that they were in the privacy of their own room, the thief let himself slam his fist against the wall, sending one the framed photos sliding to the ground. On his bed, Carlos winced at the sudden crash, still holding Dude like his life depended on it. 

Opting for a less obvious way to vent, Jay huffed and picked up his Tourney stick; holding it seemed to bring his voice back. “I wish we could fight here,” the older boy growled, still flipping the stick in his hands. “Screw the socially acceptable shit. I wanna go punch someone, God knows these fuckers deserve it.” 

“Honestly, at this point we’re dead either way, so go ahead.”

The thief seemed to recognize the odd tone in the younger boy’s voice because he softened slightly, lowering the stick in his hands. “You okay? I know Cruella was…” he trailed off, and the rogue seemed to be trying to find the right way to phrase what had just gone down without sounding too blunt. Luckily (or rather, unluckily), the white-haired kid already understood. 

“At least she was semi-rational.” Carlos gave him a small smile. “And it looked like she was mostly sober, too.” 

“Yeah, who the hell thought that would be a good idea?” 

“I dunno.” Another beat of heavy silence in which his chest constricted still further.  “Even Mal agrees that we’re all goners if we fail…” He was tired and felt strangely hollow, but not the hungry type of hollow. This kind made him crawl into bed and curl up under the blankets, the weight of the heavy comforter protecting him from all the hell that awaited them back home. Seeing his mother,  _ talking  _ to his mother, had been enough to give him a sure round of nightmares that night… not that it was different from any other one. 

_ Oh, baby, you're gonna fail. Name the last time you've ever done anything right. _

“You stood up to her today.” Jay’s anger was starting to boil down some, but he still paced, cracking his knuckles. “Don't think we didn't notice.” 

“I, what?” Carlos shook himself, looking back up at Jay, forcing his breathing to remain steady. 

“You defended Dude.” Jay looked over at the dog who was nudging Carlos’ hands for more pets. “You actually yelled at your mom.” 

“Only because she couldn't hurt me here,” the younger boy mumbled, looking down.

_ Oh, you're such a scary little villain. Yelling when you know I can’t touch you.  _

“I mean… what's the worst she could’ve done?” the younger boy muttered dubiously. “Shorted out the signal with her shouting?” 

Jay looked at him, his voice dropping. “Hey, none of that. Give yourself some credit. We’re gonna find a way to get that wand, and then she won't have any reason to yell at you.” 

_ There will be something else. There's always something else.  _

“What if I don’t want to go back?” the younger kid’s voice was low. “What if…” but the sentence was too dangerous to finish. 

Wisely, Jay left it alone. “The girls are gonna be over in a few. Mal wants to go over the plan.” 

“Again.” 

_ Yelling was a mistake, darling. Once that barrier breaks, it's gonna come back to haunt you.  _

 

**x/x**

 

“What about Dude?”

It was late, but Carlos was nowhere near sleep. He hadn’t taken his eyes of his dog all night, watching him closely, wondering what would happen to him once the barrier broke. Jay hadn’t moved in awhile, and to the untrained eye, he could’ve been fast asleep. Only the lack of soft snores gave him away. 

“Hmm?” the thief grunted finally, turning over to face the younger boy. “What about him?”

“You know what I mean.” 

And Jay did. He sighed, unwrapping and rewrapping the tape on his tourney stick. “‘Los… I just… have you ever considered the possibility that it might be safer… to leave him here?” 

Carlos had been expecting that answer. In fact, he’d been anticipating a harsher delivery, so he didn’t understand why the familiar stinging began at the back of his throat and eyelids. He didn’t want to let out his breath, knowing that it would come out as a sob. Over the years, he’d become excellent at hiding his tears, understanding that even the slightest sniffle could cost him a lot more than embarrassment back on the rock prison. He turned away so Jay couldn't see, hiding his face in Dude’s fur. 

“Carlos, please don’t cry.” The older boy, who, in turn, had gotten good at noticing the silent tears, was able to pick out the smallest heave of the white-haired teen’s shoulders. “We’ll find a way to protect your dog. We could ask Mal to hide him when we leave; she could use her spellbook.”

“But I don’t wanna leave him,” the younger boy finally sniffed, his voice cracked and shaking. “What if he forgets about me? What if I never get to see his tail wag ever again or press my nose against his little cold one?” 

Jay violently rewound the grip tape on his stick again, restless on top of the bed sheets. “He won’t forget you. How could he forget the boy who hasn’t stopped hugging and playing with him for days? You’ve never once forgotten to feed him, you always make sure he has plenty of exercise. He’s not gonna forget you for as long as he lives.” 

Carlos knew that dogs stored scents over sights, and at the very least, Dude would be able to recognize it if he ever caught a whiff, but for once, science didn’t make him feel better. “I’m gonna miss the way his nose twitches, and the way he rubs his head against my hand.” Tears were rolling down his cheeks, but he didn’t wipe them away. Dude looked up at him, his ears moving some. Did he understand what was making his Carlos so sad? Did he realize that the latter was going to have to leave him behind? The picture spinning itself in the white-haired boy’s mind of the little dog watching the limo drive away without him was enough to send Carlos into another round of hiccuping sobs. 

“‘Los?” 

“Mmmhmm?” he sniffed, his fingers gently combing through his dog’s hair, trying for the life of him to get a grip. This was exactly the sort of thing that marked him as a target on the Isle. What made him such a liability. 

“Dude is gonna be okay.” 

Carlos didn't answer right away, just sitting on the bed, misery shrouding every bit of his body. “He's gonna think I abandoned him. He’s gonna think I don't care enough to stick around.” 

_ Maybe you don't, baby. Maybe for once you'll live up to your name.  _

It felt so wrong for her voice to be intruding on right then, on this moment that was already so pathetic and emotional. But if there was anything he’d learned, it was that there was nothing he could do to quiet her once she started talking. 

By the time the faint light of dawn was  brightening the horizon and the first birds had begun their incessant singing, neither boy was sure they’d slept at all. Jay had a pillow over his face, but Carlos noticed the uneven rising and falling of his chest. Cruella’s son was still wrapped around his dog, in a semi-haze of sleepiness. 

Two more days of waking up like this. 

Two more days in Auradon. 

Two more days before hell came to heaven. 


	13. Heirs and Assigns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos is pushed to the breaking point and Jay makes another promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: If extreme responses to panic trigger you, please skip this chapter.

> _“The rich don't have children;_
> 
> _they have heirs.”_
> 
> _~ Peter C Newman_

* * *

 The hours were slipping away, teasing him, evaporating before Carlos’ very eyes.

_You’ll never get them back, baby. They're gone forever._

Contempt wasn't a foreign concept to the Isle kids, especially growing up in the hell that they did. But there was something different about the way the Auradon kids looked at them, and Carlos was pretty sure that he wasn't the only one who noticed it. The murmurs, the way the bathrooms cleared out when they walked in. The extra-hard body checks in tourney that happened when the coach wasn't looking, or how Chad Charming had even gone so far as to spit in Carlos’ face one evening after practice.   

People here hated them. And if they took away the trees and the pretty blue skies… this place was just another Isle. A place of hatred and judgment and pain.

“Maybe it won't be so bad to burn this shithole to the ground.” Mal was still seething after the family day disaster, her eyes crackling with green electricity. “I’ll slit every one of their throats one by one.”

Evie wasn't any better, her face set in an angry dark scowl. “I’ll gladly be your accomplice, M.”

“Just as long as I get that Charming douché.” Jay cracked his knuckles.

As they all walked across the campus, they stuck close together. There was safety in numbers.

Carlos was miserable. His head hurt, he was exhausted, and angry at these people who thought they could threaten the only people in the world that he might actually care about. He wished they could all run. Away from here, away from the Isle. Maybe keep running forever. And only stop if they ever found somewhere safe.

Families were still strolling across the school grounds, taking in what should’ve been another perfect day, but none of the villain kids were in any kind of mood to socialize. The four of them had almost reached the dorms and were passing the orchards when a little girl (no more than four) dropped the peach she’d been cradling. It rolled to a stop in front of them. Carlos bent down to hand it back to her, but when he glanced up, he saw the little girl’s mother pulling her away. She snatched the piece of fruit from his hand and promptly tossed it in the trash. A perfectly fresh peach, just like that, one he would've done unspeakable things for back on the island.

“You don’t wanna touch that,” he heard the woman say, her lip curling in disgust. “He’s a villain. Don’t ever eat anything they offer you, okay? They might’ve poisoned it to make you very sick, or they’re trying to distract you enough to take your things. Remember what Grandma told you?”

Carlos could feel the air in his lungs being squeezed out, her words boring right through his chest.  Once again, he tried to focus on the safe-place that didn't exist.

_Safety is an illusion, darling. You'll see soon enough._

Air. He needed air.

“‘Los.” It was Jay’s voice, but it wasn’t enough to bring him back, not this time. He did what he’d always done on the isle and started running.

Everything was tipping sideways and he was starting to get dizzy, feeling his feet trip over themselves as the grass slid sideways. He had to get out of sight, in the shadows, somewhere protected. Someplace he could lose it without being found. He was definitely dizzy now, and disgusting, involuntary heaves were ringing in his ears.  

_Baby, you’re useless. You ruin everything you touch._

Another loud gasp, his chest rising and falling.

_Yes, run, darling. Run like the coward you are. Don’t stand and face it, like mummy always told you. None of your other friends are running, and yet you always flee._

His hands met the ground with a faint stinging. Trying to swallow everything down, Carlos raked his nails across his lower calf, clinging to some aspect of control. Any aspect. The pain was enough to keep him focused for a few more seconds before the helplessness rose up inside him again.

And then he was crying and shaking and felt like his chest was being ripped from his body with every painful heave. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t keep doing this. People hated him. People hated him everywhere. The horrible convulsions were threatening to swallow him, and honestly, he didn’t care. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. Her voice was there, whispering in his ear, and no matter how hard he tried to block it out, it was still there. She was still there.

_Always and forever, my darling boy._

Numbness began to settle in, thankfully, seeping first into his legs, then his chest, and finally his head. He couldn’t have succumbed faster.

 

**x/x**

 

His eyes opened into the sky. Or, a part of it anyway. The sliver of pale blue was broken up by slabs of grey metal. He was acutely aware of how tired he was, and the pain in his palms and calves that hadn’t been there before.

“How’re you doing?”

Carlos blinked, slowly piecing together where he’d ended up.

“Under the bleachers. Far side of the field,” the steady, calm voice told him. Carlos wanted to melt into that voice, to curl up and stay there forever. That voice meant safety. “Just rest, Carlos. We don’t need to be anywhere.” Jay put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing in a slow circle. Looking around, the younger boy realized that Mal and Evie were there, too, sitting nearby, both sitting guard, their bodies positioned in such a way to hide him from view.

“Jay stopped me from spelling that woman.” Mal’s voice was low, but held more exhaustion than danger.

“Thank god.” Evie’s hand was covering Mal’s on the cement, and the girls looked at each other for half a second, nodding. “Because then we were able to come running after you, Carlos.”

His first reaction was to feel humiliated. They’d all kept their cool. He was always the one being pitied, the one who needed to be taken care of and protected. He wished they hadn’t come.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Jay looked down at him, shaking his head. “Please, don’t. We didn’t come to baby you or anything. We just… wanted to stick together. We all fucked up today. I lost my chill earlier and nearly took out Chad.”

“And I actually knocked him out with that perfume,” Evie added gently, shifting her body so he didn’t have to twist his neck so much to make eye contact.

“Don't look at me, I’m worse than all of you.” Mal gave him a small shrug. “Even though those bitches deserved everything they got, it still didn't help our ‘good guys’ facade.”

They were silent for a while, and Carlos took the opportunity to draw his first deep breath. It was a little ragged, but helped with the pain in his head. His eyes still felt a little swollen and he was sure they were red, but the tightness in his throat and chest were gone. Besides… his friends weren’t laughing or feeling sorry for him. They weren’t even trying to make it better. But that was okay with him, because really, there wasn’t any way to.

“Thanks.” His voice was hoarse, but grateful.

“‘Course.” Jay gave him a little nod. Reaching into one of his pockets, he produced a piece of chocolate. “Here, eat something.”

Carlos took the sweet gratefully, unwrapping it. The smooth chocolate coated his tongue soothingly, and he took another deep breath as it ran down his throat.

Evie was still watching him, nodding. “Whatever happens tomorrow, happens.”

And for the first time, his mother’s voice wasn't the one to finish off his thoughts. “And  we’re gonna stick together?”

His friends nodded, looking over at him. “The whole time. No matter how this shakes out.”

It was another promise made by Jay, one that was anything but guaranteed to last. But if it was any solace, not one of the other three corrected him.

Not one.


	14. Civil Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the dreaded Coronation night ends with spiked punch and sleepy Shakespeare recitations.

>   _“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world._
> 
> _Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.”_
> 
> _~ Rumi_

* * *

 

“Hey Half-Pint!”

Carlos rolled his eyes, hearing Jay’s voice come sailing over the noise and the music. As afterparties went, this wasn't the worst. And although he didn't care of the crowds or the volume level, he was willing to stick around for his friends. Besides, the carefree nature of the place was refreshing, especially after the events of the Coronation.

“Careful with that punch,” Carlos grinned, removing the cup from Jay’s hand and dropping it into a nearby garbage. “The last thing we need is to find you passed out somewhere.”

“How many cups have you had?” Jay squinted, folding his arms.

“I took one sip, realized someone spiked it, and tossed it out.” It might've been all in his head, but he was sure that he'd felt a little lightheaded from just that tiny taste.

“Fucking lightweight,” Jay smirked, punching his arm. “I knew it.”

“Don't need to be a jackass about it.” The younger boy pushed him some.

The thief laughed loudly, shaking his head. “Can't believe some do-good royal was able to sneak some drinks in here. I owe them.”  

Carlos rolled his eyes, walking across the trampled grass already littered with confetti and abandoned cups. “You do realize they have actual laws here about that stuff, right?”

“Laws?” Jay grinned, wearing his characteristic smug expression. “Don't worry, I'm tight with the new king.”

 “You're gonna get yourself sent back to the Isle before we can even entertain the idea that we’re free.”

Free. Even the words tasted giddy in his mouth. They weren't going back to the Isle. He wasn't his mother’s slave anymore. He didn't have to leave Dude. His friends’ words, their promises, were still floating around in his head, replaying over and over, at least for the time being, drowning out the voice that had been so active in his mind for so long.

“What’s with the starry-eyed gaze?” Jay chuckled, folding his arms. “What’s got your attention?”

Carlos turned his face to him, smiling. “You. Mal. Evie. Not going back to my mother, that’s a plus.”

The thief laughed appreciatively, pounding the younger boy’s back (a little sloppier than usual, perhaps, thanks to the punch). “My dad’s gonna need to find a new errand boy. Or maybe just learn to get up off his ass and do something for a change.”

Laughing some, Carlos shook his head. Jay was much more willing to make dry comments about his parent than the former would ever feel comfortable doing. Although… now that she was so far away… maybe someday, he decided.

“You better not be going to get another cup of punch.” Carlos grabbed Jay’s arm, laughing.

The rogue raised an eyebrow, a self-satisfied smile creeping across his face. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t _dream_ of it.”

 

**x/x**

 

“Ben says these will help with tomorrow’s headache.” Carlos set two small pills down with a glass of water next to Jay’s bed, shaking his head. “Crazy stuff they have here in Auradon.”

“Relax.” Jay lingered on the vowels only a slight bit longer than necessary. He was wearing his tourney sweatpants, and his hair was still tied up, but he’d forgone a shirt all together. “I’m just a little buzzed.”

“Uh huh.” The younger boy shook his head, laughing to himself. “Just a little. We don’t have classes tomorrow, so sleep in.”

“Would've done it whether you'd told me to or not.”

“Good.”

As the boys settled down, Carlos reached over and turned out the light, settling into the bed, _his_ bed. He hadn’t let himself claim it before, but now? It really was his. He would sleep there every night, on a real mattress with multiple pillows and soft blankets. Dude sighed softly next to him, curled up, his little body rising and falling peacefully. “We’re not going back.” Carlos’ voice was soft and happy, breaking the silence.

“Crazy, right?”

The younger boy was surprised to see that Jay hadn’t crashed yet. But after a moment, he was almost relieved. He wanted some company for a little, just until he fell asleep. “Are you gonna miss any part of the Isle?”

Jay was quiet for a long time and Carlos wondered whether he was still paying attention. But finally, the older boy cleared his throat. “Not… physical things. Just… the freedom, I guess. There’s a lot of fucking rules here. I’m not good at rules.” For someone who’d had several cups of spiked punch, he was more coherent than Carlos had expected. Maybe he hadn’t had that much after all.

“You’ll get better at it.” Carlos yawned some, cuddling closer to Dude, his warmth comforting. “Following the underage drinking laws they have here might be a start. ”

“Buzzkill.”

“Fucking dunkard.”

“I told you,” Jay’s voice said into the darkness. “I’m not drunk. I’m used to way stronger stuff than diluted vodka or whatever the hell they slipped in that punch tonight. It takes a lot more than a few cups to really affect me these days.”

“Your liver hates you.”

“Well,” Jay chuckled, and moved his position to face Carlos. “Can’t please everybody, now can I?”

“Yeah, but you could start with pleasing just one body.” Carlos grinned to himself, and he was pretty sure he could see Jay smiling back. “ _Your_ body.”

“You think you’re so smart.” Jay’s voice held a note of sleepiness now, the threat somewhat subdued by the hidden yawn. Both boys slipped closer towards slumber, their exhausted bodies sinking into the soft Auradon mattresses.

“I’m glad you didn’t die today,” Carlos mumbled, his eyes drifting shut. “Mal’s mom nearly blowtorched you.” He hoped his words didn't let on how terrified he'd been.

There was a still a hint of a smile in the thief’s voice. “What a way to go, am I right?”  

Nodding some, the younger boy pulled the blankets closer, trying not to think about what would've happened if Jay had been just a fraction slower. “Mmm, hmm.”

“‘Los?”

“Yeah?”

Jay paused for a moment, trying to formulate the words. “Isn’t it strange? How these people were able to hide their anger all these years? And all it took was the four of us coming here to bring it all back up?”

The words reminded Carlos of something he’d read during one of his late night book-devouring sessions in the library, part of his plan to read every single book in the school’s inventory. “From ancient grudge… break to new mutiny…  where civil blood… makes civil hands unclean. Or something like that.”

“What the fuck?”

Cruella’s son laughed drowsily. “Nothing. Just a line from a play that reminded me of what you said.”

“You read plays?”

“Sometimes.” Carlos breathing evened out, and he felt himself slowly drifting away. “That one’s a classic, apparently.”

Whatever snarky remark Jay mumbled to the room was never heard by Carlos, as the boy had finally fallen asleep, his arms still curled protectively around the dog he loved so much. The thief looked over one last time at the pair and smiled. As far as friends went, he was glad he’d landed the little white-haired boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more upbeat of a chapter! As always, thank you for reading (and a double thank you to those who comment and kudos, I love you guys)   
> More coming soon!


	15. Delicate Virility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jay bribes Carlos and Carlos becomes his tutor

> _“When someone loves you, the way they talk about you is different._
> 
> _You feel safe and comfortable.”_
> 
> _~ Jess C. Scott_

* * *

 

“Let go! You're gonna rip it!”

“Just one section, ‘Los!!! I only wanna check my work!”

Carlos was clinging to his binder, trying to shield the carefully taken notes from Jay’s view. “Check your work, my ass! There's not one word written in your notebook!!”

“I'll give you chocolate.”

The younger boy’s face grew thoughtful, something like a pout forming. “You can't bribe me.”

“I think I just did.” Jay grinned, holding out a couple pieces of the wrapped chocolate Carlos adored so much. “How about two pieces? Three pieces. Come on, please? I'll pay you back, I promise.”

“How come you seem to have a never ending supply of these things?!” Carlos squinted up into his face, already wavering at the sight of the candy. “Where are you getting all of them???”

The thief laughed, shaking his head. “Are you complaining?”

Finally, Carlos conceded to hand over the notes and take the bribery sweets. “If you'd let me tutor you, maybe you wouldn't need to just copy all the time.”

Jay was already sitting down on his bed, hastily scrawling out a copy of the younger boy’s notes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“You know if you get bad grades, the coaches here can bench you.” Carlos already had chocolate on his lips, licking the melted stuff off his fingers.

“I don't have bad grades.”

“Sure. Let me help you, just one time! History of Pirates is complicated, but you can get it, I know you can.”

The thief looked up at him, tossing aside his pencil and groaning. “Seriously, why do we even have to learn this stuff! I lived with pirates! They were pretty cool about letting me crash with them when Pops locked me out, and let me tell you, their cider was the strongest on the Isle. All this textbook stuff is just… dates! And they all get jumbled in my brain!”  

“Well, then just apply it to what you already know.” Carlos sat down on bed next to him, retrieving the pencil. “Stop mindlessly copying. See here, it says that pirate queen Grace O’Malley inherited her father’s trading ships and -”

“I knew one of her great granddaughters,” Jay interrupted, leaning back. “Or maybe it was her great, great granddaughter, we never talked about it much.”

“Hmm,” Carlos rolled his eyes, reading farther down the page. Most of Jay’s “acquaintances” on the Isle had served multiple purposes, none of them being friendship. “Judging by your track record, I’d say neither of you _talked_ at all. You slept anywhere on that island except your own bed.”

Jay just gave him a cheeky grin, winking, letting him know that his assumptions were correct. “We all had our own vice.”

“Yeah, yeah, I was too busy getting kicked around to develop one.” Carlos turned the page. “Now, focus, Jay, I really think I can help you.”

The thief conceded to turn back to the notes and look mildly engaged. “Okay, shoot.”

“Look, every effect has a cause, and most of the stories are a lot deeper than just dates. Take the Raider Presupposition in 1893…” As Carlos launched into an explanation, Jay found himself actually semi-interested in the subject for the first time. The younger boy’s clear voice and enthusiasm brought an energy to the material he’d never felt during lectures. Or maybe it was just that he'd never tried to find it before now.

“Wait, wait this sounds like the pirates were settling and becoming apart of the community. And the kings and courts were still shitting on them?” Jay asked a bit later, frowning. “That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Carlos agreed, looking up at him. “Because they had a reputation. Even though a lot of ‘pirates’ came ashore and raised families and livestock, they were still widely feared by the people in power. See, Admiralty judge Sir Leoline Jenkins defined them using the idea of _hostis humani generis_.”

“‘Enemies not of one Nation or of one Sort of People only, but of all mankind’,” Jay read off the page, scowling. “That’s not fair.”

“Who ever said history was fair? After awhile, the marauders lost hope of ever resettling and fitting in with the colonial elites, so they returned to the sea and began attacking their old nations.”

Jay squinted at the book. “So, it’s these people’s fault, then? That all those pirates ended up on the Isle? If those judges and kings had stopped being so fucking high and mighty, all would’ve been fine! No more attacks!”

“Sometimes, I think people subconsciously become what they’re told they will always be.” Cruella’s son fidgeted with his watch, moving it back and forth on his wrist. “If the pirates were told over and over that it was in their nature to be evil, well… somewhere along the line, someone asked ‘what’s the point? Why do we keep fighting this?’”

“Because we’re all worth more than a few fucked up slogans written in some old-ass court,” Jay said, looking straight at him. Somehow, he got the feeling that they weren’t really discussing pirates anymore.  “And we’re not just going to be evil because that’s what everyone says we should be.” Suddenly, he noticed something. “Hey, Carlos… you’ve stopped wearing eyeliner.”

Carlos blushed a little, nodding. “Um… yeah. Apparently, it’s not as common here.”

The thief’s face darkened, and he studied his friend’s face carefully. “Did someone give you crap?”

The younger boy shook his head, looking back down at the binder. “No, not exactly. People - guys - just don’t wear that stuff here. Not like they did back home.”

“Home,” Jay scoffed, sitting back on the bed. “That’s a strong word for a garbage pit.” He stared off for a moment, his fists clenching involuntarily. “Car, if anyone hurt you -”

“No one hurt me,’” Carlos assured him. “I just thought if we’re all fitting in, it’d probably be best if I stopped looking so Isle-like. More Auradon prince and less Harry Hook.”

At that, the rogue laughed. “Damn, I forgot about that. How’d he get so many bottles of that stuff anyway?”

Cruella’s son laughed, shrugging. “Beats me, maybe Shrimpy stole him some. Everyone knows after Mal dumped his ass, he clung to that pirate like seaweed. Maybe because they’d both had a thing with the same girl.”

“And suffered the same anger when she'd ditched them to the curb.”

They both chuckled appreciatively, shaking their heads.

“So, I don’t have to beat anyone up?” Jay sounded almost a little disappointed, and Carlos knew there hadn’t been the anywhere close to the same amount of action he was used to on the island.

“No fighting.” The younger boy looked up at him pleadingly. “The last thing we need is you breaking some royal’s ribs. Promise me? No fights?” He held out his pinky, looking at his best friend expectantly.

“What’s that for?” The older boy eyed it suspiciously.

“It’s something they do here,” the white-haired boy insisted, keeping it extended. “Just hook yours around mine. It means you won’t break the promise.”

“That sounds stupid.”

“A bit, but just do it.

After several seconds of Carlos’ best puppy-dog eyes, Jay finally conceded, wrapping his pinky quickly around the other boy’s. “Fine, happy?”

“Softie.”

Jay quickly let go, putting Carlos in a headlock and tickling him. “Take it back!”  

Carlos laughed, screaming. “Let go! Jay! Fine! Fine! I take it back!” They both fell back on the bed, still laughing, their ribs aching.  

“I hate you.

“I hate you more”

 


	16. Aurelian Eos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos likes the dawn and Jay likes the boy who likes the dawn

> _“It is only possible to live happily ever after on a daily basis.”_
> 
> _~ Margaret Wander Bonanno_

* * *

 

Morning walks through the woods were one of the best new things about living in Auradon. Carlos was used to getting up early, habit from the Isle, but unlike the grey fog that curled through the streets when day broke on the island, the dawn on the mainland was golden and pink. The whole sky was lit up, and the cheerful morning bird calls were much more pleasurable than the sounds of shouting and metallic clanging of rusty pipes. Carlos never wanted to miss a sunrise, always making sure he and Dude reached their favorite log in time to watch the magic take place.

“What do you smell, Dude?” Carlos smiled, watching his dog sniff along the ground as they walked. He didn't like to use a leash if he could help it- it reminded him too much of the way his mother would hold his neck when they went out to keep him by her side. Besides, Dude usually stuck close anyway, trotting beside him like the loyal creature he was, and if he ran, he could always be counted on to return to the dorm in time for dinner.

Humming to himself, Carlos listened to the peaceful morning sounds. The leaves fluttered softly in the slight breeze, ruffling his hair. Out here, he could breathe. He could think.

As he and Dude reached their spot, the boy brushed some of the damp leaves off the log. It was perfectly positioned on the crest, right in the space between two trees, and overlooked the water. Out in the distance, he could see the Isle - a dark blight on the otherwise perfect horizon. Maybe it had just been the smog around the the barrier, but the water from that direction had always seemed dark and choppy. So unlike the calm, turquoise wavelets that gently lapped the shore far below.

Carlos couldn’t help wondering what his mother was doing right then. Was she asleep? Was the house a mess? He tried to picture the kitchen, maybe piled high with dishes, waiting for him to return and restore order, but the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that there were no dishes, that the house had already been cleaned. He couldn't help but wonder if his mother had already replaced him. Perhaps she’d taken one of the children from the orphanage, and brought them home, forcing the kid to pick up where her own son had left off. He imagined a new boy sleeping on the mattress he’d called his for fourteen years. Maybe the boy had found his journal that he’d kept underneath one of the loose floorboards or wandered out back to the treehouse hideout. Thinking about it made Carlos feel strange inside. The Imaginary Boy might be staring at the same cracks in the wall that he did, maybe bathing in the same wash basin. It had been a miserable existence, so he couldn’t understand why he felt slightly… protective over those memories.

“Why do I even care?” the white-haired boy glanced down at his dog, chewing on his lip. “It wasn't even a real bed.” Maybe it was just the idea of being replaceable that scared him.

_Darling, you're so ungrateful._

The voice sent a jolt through his whole body, kick starting his heart rate. Suddenly, he realized how long it had been since she'd spoken in his head.

“We’re not doing this now,” he said through gritted teeth. “Shut up, stay on your island.”

Stretching out on the log, Carlos looked straight up. The bright sky made him feel better, and the focusing on the bird songs helped distract him. Slowly, he became aware of another noise - some sort of crunching - that grew louder every few seconds. Dude’s ears swiveled and he sat up straight, his body pointing back down the path.

“What is it?” Carlos sat up too, tensing some. He scanned the area, taking in every little thing, his senses heightened.

The sounds grew louder, and he recognized them as footsteps. Instincts taking over, Carlos suddenly found himself crouching behind the log, lying flat against the leaves. His heart was pounding in his ear, his breathing louder than he would've liked. He needed to hear and judge whatever was coming- not whether he was breathing or not.

Carlos wasn't quite sure whether his heartbeat or the footsteps were louder as the forest was replaced with rusty pipes and the sour odor of garbage. Dude began to growl, his throaty noises quickly turning to barking, and the boy knew that whatever was coming couldn't be much farther.

“Hey Dude! What are you doing out here?” came the incredulous voice. It took a moment for Carlos to force himself out of his consternation and register its owner.

“Jay? Is that you?” he peeked out from behind the log, warmth returning to his limbs.

The thief was shirtless, sweaty, and still had his earbuds in. He yanked them out, seeing Carlos from his half-way hiding spot. “Pup? Fuck, Carlos, what happened?”

The younger boy emerged sheepishly, sitting back on the log, the clanging in his ears fading. “I… uh… got myself worked up. Over nothing, obviously. Were you running?”

Jay nods, putting his hands on his hips and wiping his forehead, still somewhat out of breath. “Yeah. Did I startle you?”

“Just a bit.” Carlos’ own heart was just starting to slow down itself. “It was silly, I guess.”

“Not silly.” The rogue surveyed the area. “So this is where you’ve been sneaking off to every morning, huh?”

“Not sneaking.” Carlos retorted shyly, picking Dude up and holding him on his lap. “I just didn’t want to wake you up.”  

Sitting down next to him, Jay grinned. “How _princely_ of you.”

Rolling his eyes, the white-haired boy punched his arm. “Ha ha. You know, most people would just say thank you.”

“And when have I ever been most people?”

The boys sat on the log, both looking out at the sun which was now peeking above the skyline.

“Sorry for interrupting your workout.” Carlos looked over at him, laughing. “No offense, but you reek.”

Laughing, Jay shook his head. “Clean-ass freak.”

“Rancid -” but Carlos never got to finish his affectionate response because Jay was too busy tackling him to the ground and tickling him until he screamed.

“Still wanna finish that?” the older boy smirked down at him.

“RANCID- AGH! FUCK! STOP!” Carlos laughed hard, his eyes closed, writhing. “OKAY! OKAY!I WON’T SAY IT.”

The thief got up, dusting himself off, laughing. “I win.”

Under his breath, Carlos mumbled, “rancid shithead.”

The dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow, grinning. “I heard that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

The sun was well in the air by now, and the sky was tinted a brilliant gold. Still laughing, the boys climbed back on the log and stared out at the water for a long time. Carlos felt much better, his earlier panic seeming incredibly stupid now. This was Auradon, and of course the evilest things in these woods were the two of them.

“Looks so tiny from over here, doesn't it,” Jay said, gesturing to the Isle in the distance. “Strange thinking we spent our whole lives on that little black smudge.”

“Strange and sad, I guess.” Carlos leaned on Jay’s shoulder, staring out at the water. “Do you miss it?”

The thief took a moment to answer. “No, I can't say that I do. Fighting to live, sleeping in a different bed every night, constantly yelling at Pops. Besides, you smile more here.”

Carlos blushed, laughing. “I’m gonna call you a softie again.”

“Don't you dare.” Jay looked down at him. “Why'd you ask me if I miss the island? Do you?”

The younger boy smiled, shaking his head. “Every once and awhile I wonder what’s happening over there, and I get a strange feeling inside. But it's not homesickness or anything… it just reminds me how insignificant I was. So no, I definitely don't miss it. This is home.”

Jafar’s son smiled, chuckling some. “Definitely. What do you like the most?”

“School!” the younger boy leapt up abruptly as the realization hit him, his eyes wide.

“Fucking nerd,” Jay teased, shaking his head.

“No!” Carlos cried. “School is gonna start! We’re gonna be late, I can’t be late! Come on!”

Jay rolled his eyes. “That doesn't make you any less of a nerd, you dork!” 

As they took off down the path, the thief grinned. It looked like he was going to finish his workout after all. 


	17. Like No One’s Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jay is insecure and Carlos marvels at the reversal of roles between the two

>    _“Most true things are kind of corny, don’t you think?_
> 
> _But we make them more sophisticated out of sheer embarrassment.”_
> 
> _~ Michel Faber_

* * *

 There was a peculiar sound coming from the bathroom. Not an unpleasant one, just one that Carlos never thought he’d hear in his life as he returned from the library one evening.

Jay was _singing._

Not loudly, but there was no mistaking the gentle humming. Possibly even more surprising, he was decent. No not, decent, Carlos decided. He was good.

“Oh, he’s so in for it,” the white-haired boy grinned to himself. “He’s never gonna hear the end of it from me.”

Lying on his stomach, he picked up a book that was lying at the end of his bed and pretended to read. Jay’s voice was quiet and thin, but very smooth. There was no way he’d ever let anyone stumble across this on purpose. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be caught dead doing this if he’d known Carlos was back already.

“So this is what the cavalier son of Jafar does when he’s alone.” Carlos laughed softly, shaking his head. “Did you know, Dude?” His dog picked up his head, looking up at him. “Have you been keeping his secret for him? I bet you have, you’re good at that.”

His own voice wasn’t anything to brag about. Mal and Evie gave him (loving) grief about it constantly, and compared to their melodic talents, his deserved more than gentle taunting.

“No way.” Cruella’s son covered his mouth to stop his smile from growing. Jay was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his eyes wide. “Have something you wanna tell me?”

Jay stood frozen for a moment, before advancing on him quickly. “How fucking long have you been sitting there?”

Carlos flinched automatically as he approached. “Um… just got back... I live here, too, remember?”

The thief seemed to notice the flinch, and he immediately stopped in his tracks. “Sorry, ‘Los.”

The younger boy looked at him nervously. “I didn't mean to… make you uncomfortable… or anything…”

Jay shook his head, sitting on the end of the bed. “It's good, just drop it.”

“But-”

“I said fucking drop it!” This time it was Jay who winced, knowing that his tone was once again too sharp.

Standing up some, Cruella’s son gathered his dog and book, heat rising in his cheeks. If he stayed here, if things got worse, if Jay started really yelling…  “I'll go. I'm really sorry. I-I shouldn't have listened.”

“Carlos…” the older boy’s voice had lost its fire. “Carlos, I didn't mean - Carlos…”

Stopping with his hand around the doorknob, the younger boy swallowed hard, the angry words still ringing in his ears. “‘S fine, I’m fine.”

“It's late.” The thief’s lame attempts to get him to stay only made it worse. “Almost past curfew.”

“I'll be back.”

“No, you won't.” The dark haired boy watched him, his wet hair dripping down his chest, his towel wrapped around his waist. “I know those words. I would tell everyone that. My dad, the girls I slept with. I never meant it, ever.”

Turning back around, Carlos bit his lip. “I really didn't mean to listen in. I thought you'd -”

“Wait.” Jay reached over, turning out the lights, sending the room into shadow.

“What the fuck?” Feeling his way around the familiar furniture, the younger boy made his way back to the bed. “Why'd you do that? Turn them back on, I can't see.”

“Exactly.” The rogue’s voice was still low, but held a different tone. A softer one, if a bit ashamed. “It's easier that way.”

Carlos didn't argue; he was just grateful Jay might be willing to talk. Setting down his books and holding Dude on his lap, he turned to the shadowy silhouette that was his roommate. “Okay, shoot,” he said, using Jay’s line from earlier. He wasn't entirely positive, but it seemed to get a ghost of a smile from the thief.

“You can't tell anyone about that.” Jafar’s son wasn't asking. “You can't. You have to promise.”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“It doesn't matter.” The older boy shifted on the bed. “Just promise me you won't tell anyone. Not the guys on our team, not Evie, and especially not Mal.”

“Ok.” Carlos chewed on his lip, nodding. “If it makes you feel better… I really liked it.”

There was a long silence. “If only your approval meant something to the rest of the world.”

“Is it really that hard for you to say ‘thank you’?” the white-haired boy said dryly, looking down at Dude on his lap. “The other day in the woods, and now tonight? I'm starting to think you don't know those words.”

“I told you, I'm an asshole.”

Cruella’s son could feel Jay’s eyes on him, but he didn't look up. “No, I told you that. And I'm gonna tell you it again. You're an asshole, Jay. Out there, I get it, protect yourself. But… you know I don't care about that shit. You can tell me anything.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sure.” They sat in the darkness for awhile, the frigid wall between them making Carlos’ skin crawl with discomfort. “Aren’t you gonna get dressed?”

“Yeah.”

By the time Jay had slipped into what was quickly becoming his evening uniform of sweatpants sans t-shirt, the heavy silence was becoming unbearable. His shadowy form hesitated as he reached their beds again, as if deciding which to sit on. Carlos bit his lip, almost too hurt to help him out, but finally, it was just too pathetic. “For fuck’s sake, pick one and sit. I didn’t kick you off my bed, I just suggested you get dressed in case someone walks in or something.”  

At that, the older boy sat back down on Carlos’ bed, his arms folded across his chest. “Seems like you’re pissed.”

“You’re my safe place!” Carlos burst out suddenly, causing Dude to jump up and pad over to his bed. “And I kinda hoped I was yours.”

It was the kind of confession that would’ve gotten him killed on the Isle. He’d seen it happen. The breathless whispers of affection that slipped when inhibitions were lowered, the rusty silver that glinted as soon as the seemingly secret words slurred out, the dried, dark stains against grimy walls that were the only things left to show of the drunken rendezvous.

_What a mistake, baby. To get so attached._

“You are my safe place, ‘Los.” Jay’s voice was quiet, void of its usual vainglory. “But you’ve seen what happens to people with such obvious shortcomings. I’m trained to spot weakness. How do you think I learned to make off with so much shit?”

“But we’re in Auradon now…” the white-haired boy whispered softly.

“And those messages are still carved into our bones,” Jay argued, shaking his head. “I bet my father’s last piece of gold that her voice just spoke to you, going on about some ‘pathetic-useless-unworthy’ crap. Am I wrong?”

Carlos’ lack of reply was answer enough, but the little whimper only sealed the deal.

“You see? It’s not about whether I trust you personally, it’s about whether I trust the world. And I don’t.”   

“But…” the younger boy took a moment to compose his thoughts. “Singing is different. It’s not… like that. The sirens sang, and they drowned sailors by doing it. Doesn’t make you any less bad. Shouldn’t be such a vulnerability.”

“You wanna know who else sings?” the rogue scoffed, kicking his feet against the bed frame. “Princes. And princesses. And every single one of the high-hat, straight-laced prigs that left us all to die on that piece of floating rock.”

“Apophenia.” The word hovered in the air, made soft by Carlos’ intonation.

“The hell?”

“Apophenia,” Carlos repeated, finally looking up at him. “We learned about it in Psych the other day. You would’ve too, if you’d actually come to class. It’s how psychologists say you're making connections between things that are completely unrelated.”

“And that’s what I have?” Carlos could picture the look on Jay’s face, a mix between stubbornness and genuine interest.  

“Well, it's not something you can _catch_ necessarily, like a fever. It just… gives a name to what you're feeling.” He took a breath, thinking. “Pick any one of my vulnerabilities.”

“You gotta stop saying random shit and expecting me to understand.”

“Sorry. I just… remember,” the white-haired boy said, closing his eyes. “When I was really humiliated for having a nightmare one of those first nights we were here, you started talking about your dad yelling at you, and I know it sounds stupid, but it made me feel better. I started to think maybe I wasn't such a wuss, and I dunno, like we weren't so different. So pick anything that I'm insecure about, and I'll tell you everything. Anything that'll make you feel okay.”

“Carlos…” It wasn't the name, it was the way Jay said it. A strange mix of embarrassment, anger and maybe even pride fused together as the word rolled off his tongue. “I don't need you to out yourself about all that stuff. I also don't think you're a wuss. That psycho bitch was insane and did things to you that no kid should ever have to go through. I know that. Besides, you've already made me feel better.”

“Really?” Carlos looked up hopefully. Him? Helping Jay? It was always the other way around, the thief was always the one doing the comforting. He was bigger, stronger, tougher, and Carlos always seemed to need protection. For the first time, the latter felt like he’d done something useful for the guy who was constantly saving his ass, and it gave him a strange, fluttery feeling in his chest. Very slowly, the younger boy reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp, warm light flooding over both of them.

Jay squinted, putting a hand up to shield his eyes, but Carlos could see the remain of that stubborn, yet rapt gaze. “Agh, ‘s bright.”

“Good.” The younger boy crawled closer, coming right next to him. “I wanna see you. Look, I won't tell anyone about your singing voice, no matter how good I think it is.”

“Course it’s good, it's mine, isn't it?” The arrogance was back, but not in full. The rogue ruffled his best friend’s hair. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Not much,” Carlos joked, smiling. “You're a rotten excuse of a human.”

“Who isn't where we're from.” Jay smiled at him, looking thoughtful. “You know, maybe someday soon I'll find it in me to sing you something.”

“I'm sure the chorus would love another member,” Cruella’s son laughed as the thief put his arm around him.

“Don't push your luck.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a huge thanks to everyone reading and enjoying! Your comments have been amazingly sweet, so thank you for making me smile!


	18. Cookies and Curfews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jay wants cookies and Carlos wants to not get caught

>    _“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.”_
> 
> _~ Linda Grayson_

* * *

 “If you get us kicked out, I’ll personally cut off all your hair and shove it down your throat.” Carlos’ threat was a only slightly marred by the enormous grin on his face.

“Come on,” Jay smirked, holding up his hand. “Do you really think I'd get us caught?”

“Curfew…” Carlos really was wavering, glancing at the door longingly. He hated being trapped after hours, it reminded him of the lock clicking in that tiny closet and the knowledge that he wouldn't be getting out until morning. Besides, Jay always made trouble seem so enticing, and this was a harmless kind of mischief. For once the thief’s plans didn't involve stealing anything more valuable than a cookie, and the only things they’d have to fight were each other (for the cookies) and the possibly the ingredients (Jay wasn't all that great of a baker).

“Carlos!” Jafar’s son folded his arms. “Are you a villain or not?”

“Not.” He gave the older boy a pointed look. “Technically, according to the courts, we’re rehabilitated, reformed heirs of a possible evil legacy -”

“I don't give a triple flying fuck as to what we are, I want cookies, come _on, ‘_ Los!”

The younger boy dissolved into laughter, shaking his head, finally letting himself be dragged off his bed where he'd been snuggled with his computer (and dog) all afternoon. “You're just mad ‘cause I didn't give you attention when you were throwing that tourney ball at me while I was working.”

Jay grinned, carefully cracking open the door. “I can't help it that you're so boring all the time.”

“Fuck off.”

The thief smiled, put a finger to his lips, sliding out and scanning the hallway. Little stripes of yellow light were visible underneath a few of the closed doors along the hall, but mostly, the boys’ wing was quiet with sleeping students.  Sticking close to the wall, the older boy motioned Carlos forward. The younger boy knew that such measures weren't necessary in the slightest - this was a boarding school, not the Isle marketplace - but the glint in Jay’s eye told him he was enjoying pretending.

When they finally made it into the kitchens, their hands were clapped tightly over their mouths to keep the laughter from spilling out.

“Are there cameras in here?” Carlos’ eyes searched the ceiling, looking for anything that might incriminate them. “You know how strict the headmistress is about curfew.”

“A week of detention is way worth it.” Jay jumped up on one of the steel counters with ease, shaking his head. “Besides, I cut the wires to the feed here earlier; we’ve got some time.”

“Fuck, you're gonna be the death of us.” Carlos shook his head, starting to get out supplies nonetheless. “What if they find out?”

“These people?” Jay smirked, shaking his head. “Please, they couldn't catch me if I graffitied my name on the wall and told them where to find me.”

The younger boy laughed appreciatively, nodding, starting to measure out ingredients. “Are you gonna help or did you just wanna sneak us in and eat the cookies I make?”

The thief smiled, pretending to think. “Hmm...”

“Get your sorry ass down here and help me out,” Carlos ordered in mock irritation. A few minutes later, however, he was sorely regretting his words. “Oh for fuck’s sakes, Jay! I said crack the eggs, not smash them to smithereens!”

“Sorry,” Jay shrugged, seeming in fact the opposite. “Cooking isn't my thing.”

“Obviously.” Carlos was busy attempting to pick out the pieces of shell. “How did you eat on the island? I had to prepare my own meals and my mother's since… before I can remember.”

“How do you think?” the thief gestured around the room. “Getting into places I shouldn't be and taking stuff I shouldn't take.”

“Well, dumbass,” Cruella’s son gave him a sweet smile. “Do you think you could manage getting me a cookie sheet? Or are you gonna break that, too?”

“We’ll see.” Jay walked over and started opening cabinets. “Better hope I don’t break it over your head.”

“The sheets aren’t in those cabinets, Jay,” Carlos said without even looking up, shaking his head. “Look on the shelves in the back.”

“I knew that,” the thief said, noisily pulling a tray from the neat pile.

By the time the cookies were in the oven, both boys were covered in flour (which was a mystery because Jay hadn't even been apart of measuring the dry ingredients).

“Even if we do get detention, this was way worth it.” Carlos smiled at the older boy, wiping his hands on the other’s shirt, leaving two perfect white handprints on his distressed tank top.

“Really, pup?” Jay looked down at his shirt, shaking his head.

Laughing, Carlos backed up, his hands in front of him defensively. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“What did you think was gonna happen when you did that, huh?” Jay laughed, grabbing a handful of flour and stepping towards him.

“Jay! Jay, please!” The younger boy’s laughter was cut short by something very hard hitting his back. He’d backed all the way to the wall, and now there was a faint beeping sound interrupting their play.

“Shit! ‘Los!” the thief quickly pulled him away, pointing at the wall where he’d just hit. “That’s the emergency button! Someone from admin is gonna be down here in two minutes tops!”

Diving towards the oven, Carlos opened it and pulled out the tray of cookies, blowing on them. Taking them off the sheet, he bounced them from hand to hand, wincing. “Hot, hot, hot.”

“Carlos,” Jay took the cookies from him, pointing to another set of countertops. “Hide over there.”

“What, why?”

“Just do it.”

“What's going on down here?”

The thief held up his hands, turning to face the door where Fairy Godmother was standing. “It's just me, I wanted some food.”

“You’re baking?” the skepticism in the headmistress’ voice was unmistakable, and Jay didn’t blame her. He was the school’s tourney star, after all, not some culinary-prodigy.

“Yeah, I know it’s late, but I lost track of time. The emergency button was an accident.” The thief gave her a winning smile, holding out a cookie. “Want one?”

“Is anyone else down here with you?”

From behind the counter, Carlos bit his lip. In any other circumstance, staying hidden wouldn't have even been a question. But right now... 

_Darling, you fucked up. You're the weak link in every plan. This is your fault. He's going to stop dragging you along one of these days once he gets tired of covering for you._

No. No, no, no. Jay wouldn't do that. He wouldn't start resenting him, would he? Carlos bit his lip, closing his eyes. Even if it was his mistake that had gotten them caught, he didn't have to be the reason Jay got all the blame.

“I'm here, too. It's not just Jay,” he announced, popping up.

Both the headmistress and the thief’s heads snapped around. The dark-haired boy looked resigned, and Carlos could practically hear the gears turning as his mind searched for a lie. “‘Los came to find me after I missed curfew. He was following the rules, this isn’t his fault at all.”

“Yes, it is! I knew full well what we were doing, and I snuck out with you.”

Jay shook his head. “He’s just being nice. Don't punish him, this is my fault.”

Fairy Godmother looked from one boy to the next, shaking her head. It was clear she didn't know who to believe. “Since we can't check the security feed to validate either of your stories seeing as the feed was so conveniently cut…” she paused to give them significant glares. “I am forced to punish both of you. However, since this is Mr. de Vil’s first offense, and neither of you seem to be doing anything that would be against the rules during the day, I’ll only give you both one afternoon of detention.” She handed them both the little pink slips. “Now hurry on up to bed, you both have a full day of classes tomorrow. Oh, and please turn off the oven. We don't need a fire on top of everything else.”

**x/x**   


 

“You didn’t need to do that.” Jay looked over at Carlos, who was busy eating the cookies they’d managed to sneak back to their room.

“‘Course I did,” Carlos grinned, wiping the crumbs off his face. “We’re in this together, remember?”

The thief shook his head. “I could’ve gotten you off.”

“But what’s the point of having a detention-free afternoon if it’s also a Jay-free afternoon?” Finishing his cookies, the white haired boy flashed one of his million-watt smiles. “‘Night.”

“Sleep well, ‘Los.” And lying in his bed, watching the younger boy curl up and close his eyes, Jay smiled to himself.

“Jay?” mumbled Carlos, his eyes still shut.

“Yeah?”

“Even though we got caught…. your hair is safe for now.” And then he was asleep.


	19. Lessons and Cake Crumbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which detention turns out to be not so bad

* * *

 " _You’ll learn, as you get older, that rules are made to be broken.”_

_~ Mandy Hale_

* * *

 “I would rather be doing my homework,” Carlos grumbled as he and Jay walked into the kitchens for detention the next day.

“Said no one cool, ever,” Jay shot back, looking around the room. “How ironic. We get in trouble to being in the kitchens, and what do they do to punish us? Stick us right back in the fucking kitchen.”

“Jay, we got in trouble because we were out past curfew,” the younger boy reminded him, raising an eyebrow. “And this is Auradon, what did you expect? The punishment isn’t going to be an actual, you know, punishment.”

“Speak for yourself,” the thief groused, standing at the counter and looking for any food left out from the earlier “Cooking is Magic” class. “I was supposed to be training with the team. Anything other than that is punishment enough.”

“Now look who’s being ironic,” the freckled boy laughed, folding his arms. “You were begging me to come down here last night.”

“Exactly.” Jay pointed at him. “For food. I just wanted to eat. After this, I definitely will have learned my lesson.”

“That implies your behaviour will change.”

“No, the lesson is ‘don’t let you near the emergency button ever again’,” the older boy insisted, shaking his head.

“What if there’s a real emergency?” the younger boy asked with a cheeky grin, enjoying the eye roll it got.

“Fuck off, ‘Los.”

Carlos’ retort was interrupted by Professor Merriweather, who looked much too happy to be overseeing a detention class.

“Well, look who it is.” She surveyed them both, marking a little tally next to both their names on her clipboard. “I’m pleased to see both of you showed up.”

Cruella’s son didn’t add that Jay had been trying to skip, nor that he’d promised the older boy that he could pick the movie later that night as a weak bribe. The boys just nodded and gave her wary smiles.

“So, are we cleaning this place?” Carlos asked, looking around. Cleaning was good, it was something he could do.

“Of course not,” Merriweather shook her head. “You’re gonna bake me some cake, following this recipe.” She flourished a rather well-worn looking piece of paper, stained with age or ingredients, Carlos couldn’t exactly tell.

“At least we get to eat it after,” Jay mumbled, taking a look at the paper.

“Oh no,” Merriweather laughed, shaking her head as if Jay had just messed up the alphabet. Her patronizing tone reminded Carlos of Evie’s mother, and he shivered at the thought.

“What do you mean?” The thief folded his arms, standing up straighter. “So we have to slave over this fu-”

“- freaking -” Carlos interjected, stepped hard on his best friend’s foot.

“ - cake,” Jay continued, barely noticing the white-haired boy’s attempts to eliminate the profanity. “And then we don’t even get to eat it?”

“You’re making it for the faculty meeting tomorrow,” the professor smiled, tapping her pen on the counter. “This is meant to teach you a lesson, boys. About following instructions -” she tapped the recipe. “And being considerate of others.” She smiled sweetly, as if it was the most logical thing in the whole world.

“Jay is gonna poison everyone,” Carlos mumbled, remembering the thief’s baking skills from the previous evening.

“Maybe on purpose,” the older boy muttered back, snorting.

“Two cakes, boys, get started.” Professor Merriweather took a seat in the back, pulling out a stack of papers to grade.

As Carlos set to work, he figured detention wasn’t really that bad. He could cook, and he happened to like the specific rules and measurements that went along with the task.

_3 ¾ cup of flour…_

Leveling off the white powder, Carlos looked over at Jay, who was attempting a similar action with a liquid measuring cup. “Jay, that’s not -”

“I can do this,” the thief assured him, shooing him away. “I don’t need help.”

“Okay.” The younger boy was less than convinced. One bullet point down and Jay had already messed up, but he knew well enough that if the older boy didn’t want help, he wouldn’t take it. So, Carlos turned back to his own cake, carefully measuring and whisking ingredients together, whistling softly under his breath.

“How’d you do that?”

The freckled boy had been so enraptured by the assignment that he’d nearly forgotten they were even in detention. Looking up, he glanced over at Jay, who’s eyebrows were all scrunched together as he studied Carlos smooth batter. Laughing shyly, Carlos thought he looked kinda cute. “How’d I do what?”

“Make it smooth?” Jay was still studying it, as if that alone could recreate the consistency in his own dish.

Taking a quick look at the thief’s version of the recipe, Carlos couldn’t help cringing. “Dude, did you melt the butter?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you add it in _cool?”_ Silence. Carlos tried not to laugh, rubbing his forehead. “Jay, you curdled the eggs. Toss that, let’s start over.” Looking back at Merriweather (who was still absorbed in her papers), he stepped closer to his best friend and lowered his voice. “Okay, listen to me, here’s what you have to do…”

Carlos stood behind him, taking his arm gently, showing him how to whisk. Together, they began cracking the eggs. Laughing, the freckled boy nodded some. “Gently… one firm tap should do it… good, now let it fall between the two halves… good!”  

When the older boy finally got it, he pumped his fist like he’d just scored a goal on the tourney pitch, a huge grin on his face.

Carlos watched, laughing, pushing his curls back. “Ok, ok, go wash your hands. Raw eggs can make you sick. And use soap!”

“‘Los, I’m good at this,” the thief laughed as he dried his hands.

“Yeah, you are.” The white-haired boy handed him a bottle of cooking spray. “Now, grease the pan - AGH!”

Jay grinned, laughing. “Gotcha.” He’d sprayed the younger boy’s chest, which was now shining with oil.

“Dammit, Jay,” Carlos tried to keep a serious face as he grabbed paper towels, but failed miserably. “I said grease the pan.”

Shrugging, the thief laughed. “And I heard grease the nerd.”

Flipping him off, Carlos roughly shoved the metal dish at him. “Well grease this now, I have to go finish up mine.”

By the time the timer went off and the two cakes were pulled out of the oven, the boys had made the icing, too.

“Why does it have to be pink?” Jay groused, making a face at the pale color.

“I dunno, I think it’s pretty.” Carlos took a finger of frosting and licked it off, winking.

“You like it ‘cause it’s close to red.”

And in the end, Carlos had to admit, Jay’s cake looked good. Maybe not quite as neat as his own, but the thief had really improved from the mess he’d started with. Plus, even though he thought the younger boy couldn’t tell, Carlos knew he was beyond proud of himself. Jay was admiring the cake like he sometimes did the MVP tourney trophy, a tiny self-satisfied smile unfurling on his face. It was really kind of sweet.

Suddenly, without warning, he brought his hand down on the center of it, cracking the cake into two.

“Jay!” the freckled boy gasped, lunging forward. “Dude, what the heck?!”

Putting a finger to his lips, the older boy smirked. “Shh, just wait.”

“Boys, are you about finished?” Professor Merriweather made her way back over to them, her eyes scanning the finished products. “Carlos, dear, that’s lovely. I’ll be sure to tell all the teachers tomorrow who made such a wonderful desert. Jay…” She sighed heavily, as if she’d expected it. “What happened?”

The thief hid his frosting covered hand behind his back casually, shrugging. “Baking’s not my thing.”

“Clearly.” The professor bit her lip, studying the mound of cake. “Well, I can’t serve that, can I? Throw it out, I suppose. Maybe Carlos could help teach you the art of cooking at some point, he seems to have a real knack for it.” She smiled at him affectionately, and Jay rolled his eyes.

“Teacher’s pet,” the thief mumbled under his breath, which earned him a jab in the ribs.

As soon as Merriweather had carried Carlos’ cake out of the kitchen, Cruella’s son turned to his best friend accusingly. “Why did you do that? Your cake looked great! You ruined it!”

Jay grinned, taking a large hunk of cake and eating it. “Did I?”  

And then, Carlos finally understood, and his outrage turned to pure elation. “Oh, _oh,_ Jay, you devil.”

“Doesn’t matter if it looks pretty,” the dark-haired boy laughed, stuffing his face with the mangled cake. “Still tastes great. I made it, and I wanted to eat it.”

“Can’t believe she fell for that.” Carlos’ own mouth was now very full of cake, and it was a miracle Jay understood what he was saying at all.

“You did too,” Jay mumbled back, wiping his mouth. “It’s sometimes nice to be the one no one expects anything from in domestic areas.”

“When you apply yourself,” the younger boy laughed, half choking on cake crumbs. “You’re actually not bad!”

“Shut up and eat,” Jafar’s son laughed, and he didn’t have to tell Carlos twice.

When Professor Merriweather returned to the kitchens later that afternoon, she found that everything looked orderly. In fact, only three things prompted a closer look: a smear of pink icing on the counter, a floor full of crumbs, and a trash can that was mysteriously empty of the cake she’d instructed a certain pair of boys to throw away.


	20. Swords and Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jay's most valuable possession is confiscated, and Carlos is willing to pull out all the stops to get it back

>   _“A good friend is a connection to life -_
> 
> _a tie to the past, a road to the future,_
> 
> _the key to sanity in a totally insane world.”_
> 
> _~ Lois Wyse_

* * *

 Jay had first shown it to him one night after a nightmare.

“They’re coming.” Carlos’ voice had been hoarse and his forehead wet with perspiration. “They’re coming, Jay. She was standing right there, right there.” With a shaking finger, he pointed to the space beside their beds.

“‘Los,” the thief had said, perched on the edge of the white-haired boy’s bed. “If our parents ever left that cesspit and came for us, your mother couldn’t just stand there.”

“Yes, yes she will. She was! She’s gonna skin me just like she was trying to skin all those puppies.” The young boy’s eyes were wide with fear, and he was almost inconsolable.

“Carlos.” Jay stood up, walking over to his bed and reaching underneath his pillow. From underneath, he pulled a dagger. The knife's thick handle fit comfortably in his hand, and it was obviously not the first time he’d wielded it. “She’s not gonna stand there very long because I’m going to slit her throat first.”

Cruella’s son looked at the blade. “You’re armed.”

“I’m always armed.” Jay sat back down on Carlos’ bed. “Always. A bad habit, I guess, that these people never did break.”

But the younger boy’s body visibly relaxed and he sank back into his pillows. “You’re armed,” he repeated, sighing deeply.

“Yeah. Does that make you feel better?” the thief looked at the knife in his hand, turning it over and running his fingers lightly over the dents in the black stone hilt.

“Yeah, actually.” Carlos was studying the dagger, too. “Where’d you get it? It’s beautiful.”

“My dad gave it to me.” The phrase hung in the room, and the younger boy knew exactly what was riding on those words.

“He… gave that... to you?” the white-haired boy breathed, his mouth open slightly. “When? _Why_?”

“When I was seven.” Jay’s voice was low and he never looked up from the blade. “He’d always kept this in his drawer for as long as I could remember. And then, one day, after I came home bloody from a fight, he took it out and gave it to me. It's kept me alive.”

“Mother never gave me anything.” Carlos’ voice was still laced with awe, and maybe a tiny bit of envy. “Unless cigarette burns count.”

The thief shook his head. “It wasn’t fatherly love or anything. I lost the fight that day. And he told me that I belonged to him and no one touched his things, so I couldn't let them beat me. And they haven’t, not yet. My hands aren’t clean, but at least I still have hands.”  

Carlos shuddered at the thought of Jay suffering the fate so many thieves did, the sword loping off the tools a street rat needed most. And suddenly, he was doubly thankful for the knife.

The second time Carlos saw the dagger was under much less comforting circumstances.

“A special what?”

“Inspection,” the royal guard repeated, standing straight and alert. “Surely you don't mind me coming in and taking a look around.”

The white-haired boy moved aside, his hands shaking. A surprise inspection? No one else had said anything about getting inspected. Glancing over to the bathroom, he tried to mentally will Jay to come out. The thief had returned home from a training session a few minutes earlier, and now the shower was running, but he wished with all his heart that it had taken Jay a little bit longer to turn it on. Carlos wondered if there was a way to tell him about the inspection without making it obvious; the older boy would know all the questions to ask, how to get this guy to go away.

“Um… please don't touch my binders… I just organized -” Cruella’s son said meekly, watching as his papers flutter to the ground. Take deep breaths, he told himself. There was nothing in the room that could possibly be incriminating -

“What's this?”

Carlos’ heart swooped down below his stomach. “Um… that's not… Jay!! JAY!!”

The shower was turned off and the door thrown open faster than the younger boy would've ever thought possible. “Carlos!” There was an obvious note of panic in Jay’s voice as he emerged holding a towel around his waist, his hair still dripping wet. “What's - who the hell are you?”

The guard looked affronted at the thief’s agressive tone, but he held his ground, still holding the dagger between his thumb and forefinger as if it might bite. “You might wanna watch your mouth considering what I've just uncovered.”

“Did he hurt you?” Jay completely ignored him and stormed over to Carlos, stepping in between him and the royal guard. “I swear to God, ‘Los-”

“‘M okay,” the younger boy shook his head weakly, pointing. “He found… your knife…”

Something flashed across Jay’s face for half a second before the anger overshadowed it. “Give it back.”

“This will be confiscated and turned into the headmistress for the security department to handle. It's no longer your concern.” The guard was already sealing it inside a bag.

“I'm not fucking around!” the thief walked forward, his hand out. “That's mine! Give it here!”

“Sir, please remain where you are-”

“ _Give my fucking knife.”_

He was gonna get sent back, Carlos was sure of it. They weren't supposed to speak to authority like that here, and he knew Jay well enough to understand that he wouldn't back down from this.

“Come with me.” The guard tried to take his arm, but the thief twisted it away.

“Let me get dressed before you haul me off,” he snarled, putting up a hand. “No need to follow me into the bathroom, I'm putting on clothes, not planning my escape.”

The white-haired boy couldn't say anything, he just watched in slow motion as Jay went in, came out, and was promptly cuffed.

“Carlos!” the older boy struggled against the guard’s grip, looking back at him. “Don't worry! Get the girls! Don't let these guys  -” but the man pulled him out into the hall and shut the door before he could get the rest of his words out. Carlos could hear Jay yelling at the guard as he was pulled down the hall and it was a tiny bit gratifying to know that the dark-haired son of Jafar wasn't going down without a fight.

“This isn't happening.” Carlos fought off the familiar feeling of helplessness in his throat. Jay had told him to get the girls, he was counting on him, he couldn’t go crazy, not yet. Besides, a part of him feared that if he went insane without Jay to calm him down, he'd never return to normal.

He started running, but before he could find Mal or Evie, he found the king himself.

“Carlos!” Ben laughed. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“It's Jay!” he panted, putting his hands on his hips. “There was… a dagger… his dagger… they took him…”

The king frowned. “What?”

“A surprise inspection!” the younger boy cried, pointing back towards the door. “Jay is always armed! They found it!”

This time, Ben understood. At least partly. He straightened his shoulders, looking around. “An inspection? Of your dorm? I didn't order that…”

“If they didn't have a search warrant, anything they found is registered unusable in court,” the white-haired boy blurted out.

Ben looked impressed, but shook his head. “You've been reading up on Auradon’s laws? That's applaudable, but I'm afraid there's a few exceptions for school. All they need is reasonable suspicion.”

“They inspected us because we’re from the Isle,” Carlos said bitterly, pulling Ben across the field. “That was their stupid suspicion. And now, they're gonna send him back.”

“Not if I can help it.”

It did help that one of his friends was the king.

 

**x/x**

 

“Your Majesty, I must disagree-”

“Please release him,” Ben repeated, using the authoritative tone he only used when exercising his royal privileges. “He wasn’t informed of the school’s weaponless policy and it wasn’t on his body or harming another student.”

“Sire, there’s no precedent -” the guard looked incredibly outraged, only egged on by Jay’s smug expression as he was uncuffed.    

“Exactly.” Ben nodded, straightening his crown. “Where he’s from, there are different rules -”

“More like a lack of them,” Carlos heard Jay mutter, rubbing his wrists.

“Jay, please.” The king held up his hand, looking at the him sternly. “Now, no more weapons on school property, do you understand? They're not necessary here. You've only got a warning this time, but if this happens again, I've got no choice but to enforce our rules here just like every other student.”

The thief nodded, but was still eyeing the bag that contained his knife. Carlos moved closer to Jay, relieved to see him uncuffed, but studying his expression nonetheless. He knew that if his mother had ever bothered to give him something other than a scar, and especially if it was as valuable as that blade, he’d be pretty upset to see it confiscated, too.

“Uh, Ben… your Majesty… um… can I talk to you for a second?” Carlos pulled him away from the other two, lowering his voice. “Jafar gave Jay that knife.”

He expected to see immediate recognition on the king’s face, but Ben just remained confused. “Yes?”

Blinking, the white-haired boy tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean, ‘yes’? His father _gave_ that to him.”

“As opposed to him taking it?” Ben was trying hard to understand, anyone could see that. He just had no idea.

“Imagine your dad only gave you one thing your whole life.”  

The king’s eyes widened. “Only one present? What about birthdays and Christmas? Valentine’s day? First day of school? Even just-because occasions?”

Carlos just stared at him. “What?”

The king looked very uncomfortable. “Oh. Well, Carlos, I can't just… give it back to him. It would be breaking school rules and undermine my -”

“Please! That’s Jay’s only possession from his father. It's kept him alive, he told me himself.”

“Carlos, I'm sorry, but getting him off with a warning is one thing. Letting him keep a weapon on school grounds? I just don't think it's possible, I can't make an exception for one student.”

He was right, but it still wasn't good enough for the son of Cruella.

 

**x/x**

 

For the next week, Carlos spent more time in the library than in his dorm, looking for something, some law, some exception that would allow Jay to keep his precious knife.

“Nothing,” he said to himself one night, thirty minutes before the library doors closed. Half the lights were already off, and dark rows of books stood out against the lone fluorescent light that flickered above his work table. “Apparently, they have something against knives.”

“Who has something against knives?”

Carlos jumped in his chair, nearly knocking the books in front of him to the floor. “Shit,” he mumbled, looking up. “I thought I was the only one in here.”

“Nope.” Lonnie sat down on the table next to him, waving around a stabled stack of paper. “Just finishing up a last minute essay for Fabled Wars and Revolutions.” She looked down at the white-haired boy’s shelf picks that were still spread out in front of him. “ _Theory of Justice_ ? _Auradon Common Law_? Are you taking Control of Magical Ethics or something? I didn't know they offered that to younger students.”

Shaking his head, Carlos sighed. “No. Although that would be an interesting class. I'm trying -” he paused, wondering what Mulan’s daughter would think of Jay’s having a knife. Then again, if anyone would understand, she would. “Jay’s dad gave him a blade when we were back on the Isle. Apparently, you guys get stuff from your parents all the time here, but we never did, so this means a lot to him.”

“Security confiscated it, didn't they?” Lonnie looked resigned. “Been there.”

Looking up, surprised, Carlos frowned. “You?”

Lonnie laughed hard. “Yeah. My whole family fought in the military, you don't think I have an extensive collection of knives and swords? And tried to sneak them in?”

“Wait, really? How?”

The dark-haired girl laughed, nodding. “Obviously not successfully. Although, they did let me keep my mother’s sword framed on the wall.”

“Framed?” Hope surged back into Carlos’ limbs and for the first time all afternoon, he smiled. “They let you keep something like that if it's framed?”

“We were able to classify it as ‘an ancient familial relic’, and Ben and his parents said that if I kept it behind glass, I could display it in my dorm. Of course, it helps if you've got a mother like mine pressing for them to comply, very few people would deny her, she's pretty persuasive….”

But Carlos barely heard the rest of her answer. His thoughts were bubbling with rejuvenated energy, and he flipped open to the table of contents in a new book, scanning quickly. “Ancient relic…. relics… heirlooms…”

“Did this help at all?” Lonnie asked, looking surprised herself.

“Yeah, actually.” Carlos bit his lip, thinking. “Jay didn't tell me all that much, just that the knife was given to him by his dad, but do you think that could be enough to get Ben to agree it's an ancient relic?”

“Well,” the older girl chuckled. “It does help that the king is your friend. I’d run it past him, at least. Ben might be okay with bending the definition a bit.”

By the time the library closed and Carlos was forced to retire to his dorm, he had reasons to believe Jay would get his knife back after all.

 

**x/x**

 

When Jay walked up to his room the next day, he was incredibly irritated. He’d spent the last half hour looking for Carlos, and had turned up nothing. The kid had simply disappeared. He’d found Mal (and punched her), caught up with Evie (and her new designs), heck he’d even managed to run into Dude! But not one glimpse of Carlos’ red gloves or white-tipped hair anywhere on campus.

“Why the fuck is this school so big,” he complained, unlocking his door.

“‘Cause this is Auradon and they like wide-open spaces.” Carlos was standing in the center of the room, hiding something (unsuccessfully) behind his back.

“Where have you been?” the thief blinked, folding his arms. “I’ve been chasing you around all day!”

The younger boy smiled apologetically. “I was… doing something. Actually, I have something. For you.”

“For me?” Jay raised an eyebrow. Despite reforming their ways, the Isle kids still didn't give each other presents, and he never even shared his food with anyone besides Carlos. Old habits died hard. Besides, whatever he needed, he usually just took from someone else (not stealing, as he'd assured Carlos many times, just relocating an item to fit his personal agenda).

The younger boy looked a little nervous, but he nodded, smiling shyly. “Yeah.” From behind his back, he pulled a framed picture. At least, Jay thought it was a picture until Carlos turned it around.

“Is that…”

The white-haired boy nodded, his face anxious with anticipation. “I got it framed. Lonnie helped me, she told me about the laws, I spent so long trying to -”

The thief cut off Carlos’ rambling with a hug. It was awkward, a little hesitating, and trying to navigate around the bulky shadow box was difficult, but it did the job. “Carlos…” for the first time, Jay was left without words. Finally, he just shook his head. “Fuck.”

Cruella’s son danced from foot to foot gleefully. “Is Jay speechless?”

Taking the frame, the older boy snorted. “No.” But he still couldn’t seem to make anything else come out of his mouth as he examined the box.

“I know it's not the same as having it on you at all times… but… I just thought you'd still want it. And this was the only way. Ben agreed that if it was behind glass, as sort of a display case, he could let it slide.” Carlos was smiling shyly, his face searching Jay’s for any trace of a negative reaction.

“Seriously… Carlos…” the thief turned to him, shaking his head. “How’d… how’d you figure all that out?”

“Um,” the younger boy scratched his neck, his cheeks red. “Several long nights at the library and a lot of Auradon law books. Oh, also Lonnie.”

Jay wanted to ask him so many things, the first being _why_. “I was gonna steal it back,” he confessed, for the first time feeling an uncomfortable heat in his chest when he spoke about his craft. “But… this is legal. You did it legally, ‘Los!”

The white-haired boy grinned widely. “Yeah, I know. That was kinda the point.”

They both admired the knife, which looked - if possible - even more impressive framed so nicely in the shadow box.

“Thank you, Carlos.”

The younger boy suddenly looked at him with wide eyes, his mouth open slightly.

“What? What is it?” the older boy studied his face, searching for the cause of the shift. He’d gotten pretty good at recognizing the triggers, what had he missed?

“You… said, ‘thank you’.” Carlos smiled shyly, his cheeks flushing a faint pink behind his freckles.

Laughing, Jay slung an arm around the younger boy. “Hey, look at that, I finally said it.”

If possible, Carlos felt his heart beat even faster. He pressed himself gently against the older boy again, inhaling deeply and trying to hide how flushed he knew his cheeks had become.

And though he tried hard not to give into it, the tension eventually drained from the freckled boy's shoulders. This was the kind of contact he could get used to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next few chapters, you'll start to see the beginning of the boys' changing relationship (friends -> boyfriends). Don't be fooled by the slow shift, it'll be explosive once it happens. As always, thanks for reading!


	21. In  Sickness and in Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which sickness is a much bigger deal on the island than it is in Auradon

> _“Are you upset little friend?_
> 
> _Have you been lying awake worrying?_
> 
> _Well, don't worry...I'm here._
> 
> _The flood waters will recede, the famine will end, the sun will shine tomorrow,_
> 
> _and I will always be here to take care of you.”_
> 
> _~ Charles M. Schulz_

* * *

 “No…”

By now, it was an unspoken routine. The soft creaking of beds, the padding of feet as one slid into the other’s bed or arms. Anything for comfort. But one night, when Jay went to soothe the younger boy’s nightmares, he was met with something else just as alarming.

“Shit, you’re burning up.” Jay’s heart beat faster. Carlos had a fever and that meant chills and lack of appetite, and most importantly, it meant _sickness._ Especially during the cold winters on the island, something as simple as a cough could be enough to do people in, particularly for those already struggling with poor immunity. “Fuck… Carlos, Carlos, wake up.”

The white-haired boy rolled over a little, a low groan escaping his parched lips. “Jay…”

“Listen to me, Carlos, I need to go -”

“No,” he whined, his voice hoarse. “Stay, please stay.”

The thief tucked the blankets tighter around the younger boy, but he pushed them away. “‘S fine, I’m hot.” Then he stopped, looking up at Jay. “I have a fever, don’t I?” It wasn't really a question.

“No,” Jay said unconvingly, running a hand through his messy hair. “No, it’s just… I’m gonna fix this.”

“Jay-” Carlos caught his arm as he made a move to leave, and his voice was surprisingly steady. “Listen to me, you were right. You have to go, you can’t stay here. You can’t get sick, too.”

The thief knew that it was custom to quarantine sick patients back on the Isle. He’d seen the empty seats in the dungeons, heard the rumors, knew about the crest of the far hill where the burial trenches were overcrowded during the frigid, icy months. Every man for himself, that had been the mentality. Anything to live another day. But if Carlos really thought that he was going to cut off contact, he was sorely mistaken. They hadn’t come this far just to part ways; Jay would sooner die than let Carlos suffer alone.

“I will fix this.” The thief didn't want to ask for help, to go running to the stupid princes in the middle of the night begging for a chance. He could do this, he could figure it out.

“Jay-” Carlos started, but the older boy shook his head.

“I'm gonna go get Ben,” he decided finally, cringing. Fuck, it felt like admitting defeat.

 

**x/x**

 

“What's wrong?” a bleary-eyed king mumbled, finally opening his dorm room. “Jay?”

“It's Carlos!” Jay said, pointing back down the hall, an quick, stressed rhythm pounding in his chest. “He woke up with a fever.”

Ben nodded, leaning against the door frame. “Yeah, it's been going around. Has he been getting enough sleep? Sometimes that lowers immune systems.”

The thief stared at him, blinking. There was no sense of urgency, no immediate response of anguish. The king could've been talking about what he'd had for dinner the previous evening.

“He's hot as hell,” Jay swallowed hard, his fists clenched. “Please don't quartenine him, I'll stay with him! He can't be alone!”

Ben rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn. “I'm not sure I understand. Quartentine? It's a fever, Jay. Probably the flu. He needs some tea, some medicine, and a day of rest. I have some stuff in my bathroom if you want it.”

“You have… medicine for that stuff?” Jay’s voice was low, remembering the hunched over figures in the corners of the streets with hacking coughs, the screaming children being dragged away to the rickety building at the edge of town where all the sick ones went and sometimes never returned. “All this time… all those kids….”

The other boy wasn't looking so tired anymore. In fact, he was studying Jay carefully. “You guys didn't have medicine?”

“We lived under a dome with buildings that were so close together you could reach out and touch from one wall to another. Once one person got sick on your block, you might as well just call it a day because you were almost certain to follow! Medicine? Forget about it. Your shitty barges couldn't cut across the ice in the cold months, so we were left without food or garbage to scavenge what little we survived off of!” The king took a step back and suddenly, Jay realized how loud his voice had become. He figured he should apologize, or at least lower his voice, but at the moment he was too pissed to do either.

“People… died? Of the flu?”

“We didn't have a fancy name for it. You were either surviving or sick. Dead or alive.”

Ben looked like he might faint, his face pale. “Mom and Dad… never told me.”

“Lucky you.”

Ben shook his head, pulling himself together. “I’m sorry that you had to go through something that awful, Jay. Just know that it’s not like that here. Actually, a lot of kids even fake fevers to get out of school.”   

Jay didn't know whether to continue being angry or let himself be relieved, so he just decided on both. “Then I'm guessing Carlos is gonna be okay.”

Running a hand through his hair, the king said, “he should be, yeah. Do you want that cold and flu medicine?” When the thief nodded, Ben melted back into his bedroom, returning after a moment with a bottle. “Don’t tell anyone, we’re not supposed to share this stuff.”

“Why?”

“‘cause it’s like drugs, apparently.” Ben gave him something like a smile, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, though, they don’t enforce it much.”

The last thing on the dark-haired boy’s mind was getting caught sharing flu medicine. Now that he knew Carlos wasn’t going to die, he needed to reassure him that this wasn’t how he went. Thanking Ben, he returned to the dorm, pushing open the door.

“Jay?” came the pitiful whine from the mound of blankets.

“Yeah, it’s me, I’m back. Don’t worry, ‘Los, you’re not gonna die.”

“Gee, thanks.” The younger boy’s voice was hoarse, but not void of humor.

Holding the bottle Ben had given him close to the bedside lamp, Jay tried to make sense of the label, wondering if it was possible to overdose on this purple syrupy stuff. “No, I’m serious. I went to get Ben, and apparently, fevers are pretty common here.”

“Oh.” Carlos coughed a little, rolling over gingerly to see Jay better. “So no quartentine?”

“Nope.” Jay poured a little bit of the medicine into the cap and squinted to make sure it was just hitting the line. He almost tipped it over, cursing under his breath, which made Carlos laugh weakly.

“That shit looks like your failed science practical last week.”

At that, the thief grinned some. “Yeah, I know. Just drink it, Ben says it’ll help. I guess they have medicine here for this kind of thing.”

“All those people on the island… ” Carlos reached out and took the capful of syrup, sitting up some. It was clear his thoughts were following the same path Jay’s had earlier as he studied the thick liquid.

“I had the same thought. Don’t worry, I already gave Ben a piece of my mind.”

“You didn't.” Carlos’ eyes went a bit wide, still holding the medication carefully. “What did you say?”

“I don't really remember,” Jay shrugged, sitting across from him. “It wasn’t exactly _gracious._ Now stop stalling, just drink that stuff before I shove it down your throat myself.”

Sticking out his tongue, Carlos rolled his eyes, but eventually tipped the cap back and downed the medicine. His face was crinkled up in discomfort as he swallowed. “That was disgusting.”

“Hopefully it'll work.” Jay handed him a glass of water. “Wash the taste out. How's your head?”

All he got was a long groan as a response. Carlos’ eyes were closed, but after a moment, he felt something cool cut the burning tension behind his skull. “Wha-” Reaching up, he realized Jay had put a cold towel across his forehead, which would’ve been nice if it weren’t still full of water. “Did you wring this out?”

“Uh… shit.” Jay laughed a little, trying to keep the droplets from running down Carlos’ face. “My bad, I didn’t know I should.”

But Carlos was laughing, shaking his head. “It’s okay, it’s fine, feels nice anyway.” He smiled up at the older boy. “For the record, you’re pretty good at taking care of people.”

“Not people, just you.” Jay sat down again, this time on the edge of Carlos’ bed. “I’m insensitive as fuck.”

“You like to think that.” Carlos smiled up at him, moving over a bit so the other boy could have more space.

“Do you think you could sleep?” the thief looked down at him, noticing how pink Carlos’ freckled cheeks were. “You’ve still got a fever, for sure.”

“Are you gonna go anywhere?” the younger boy asked, reaching for his hand.

Letting him take it, Jay chuckled. “It’s like four in the morning.”

“Still.”

“No, ‘Los, I’m not going anywhere.” The thief carefully pulled the blankets up around Carlos’ chin, ruffling his curls. “You just try to rest.”

“I’m hot,” the white-haired boy complained, trying to push the blankets off.

“You like to think that,” Jay replied cheekily, mimicking Carlos’ previous retort.

“Is it possibly for you not to be a jackass? Just for like, five minutes?”  

“Nope. And keep yourself wrapped up, trust me! I read something about it.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. Just do it anyway, it sounds right.”

As Carlos began to drift off again, he kept his grip on Jay’s hand. And even in his half daze, he thought he heard something that sounded an awful lot like someone singing him quietly to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are gonna make me faint, cry, and laugh all at once with your spectacular comments. Seriously, I have no idea what I did to deserve such love, but my heart is full each and every time I receive messages from you guys.  
> Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  
> New chapter coming soon!


	22. Serendipity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos succeeds in cheering Jay up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late! I haven't had any access to a computer until now to post :) Hope the chapter was worth the wait!

>   _serendipity (n)_ /serənˈdipədē/
> 
> _finding something good without looking for it_

* * *

  _We lost._

Carlos watched in sort of a stunned silence as the clock ran down to zero. The Knights had missed their final chance to tie the game. Barely, but that wasn’t good enough for the scoreboard. The blue and gold crowds weren’t used to seeing their players on the losing end of things, and a low murmuring hovered over the field as the students slowly filed out of the stands.

As far as his own opinion went, losing wasn't a big deal. He considered winning more of a pleasant surprise than a regular occurrence. Unfortunately, Carlos could already tell by the way Jay’s fists clenched around his stick and how he threw his shield down that the older boy was pissed.

“This is why teams suck,” Jay hissed as the two of them headed towards the locker rooms. “I could've won that game! If only -”

“Jay!” Carlos shook his head. “Shut up, I’m serious.” Once the dark-haired boy really got going, there would be no stopping the flow of angry words, and Carlos got the feeling that Auradon wasn't quite ready to see that. Especially because most of what Jay said when he was upset was just reflexes, furious phrases that only encompassed that moment’s emotions.

Instead of stopping altogether, the thief simply switched languages. Shoving the rest of his gear in the locker, the thief began muttering in rapid-fire Arabic.

“Watch your mouth,” Carlos said firmly, carefully organizing his bag. He’d hung around Jay long enough to pick up some choice phrases, mostly obscenities.  

Chad - whose locker was unfortunately close to the Isle boys - raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jay in a half-curious disgust. “What’s that he’s speaking?”

“Arabic, it’s what his dad spoke at home.” Carlos landed a subtle jab to Jay’s ribs, which made the older boy tense for some reason. “And he's saying how great the game was.” The dark-haired boy shot back with another phrase, and even though Cruella’s son couldn’t catch everything, the few words he did pick up weren’t redeeming in the slightest.

“Wait, Carlos, do you know it too?” One of the other guys asked.

Shrugging, Carlos laughed awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. “I can’t actually speak it, if that’s what you mean. But I can usually get most of what Jay says. There’s normally not much variety.” He gave Jafar’s son a pointed look that had zero effect on the Arabic profanity. None of their teammates had picked up on the silent exchanges, much to Carlos’ relief.

They got out of the locker room as quickly as possibly, Jay too angry to be around other people, and Carlos stressed about what the former would say if left alone for too long among the princes.

As they walked back in the direction of their dorm room, the younger boy watched the older for any signs of increased cheerfulness. His hair - still wet from the showers - caught the evening sunlight, but it only served to make the deep frown lines on his face look out of place. As he studied Jay, Carlos became aware of a slight shift in his stance. He was crossing his arms across his body in a normally unassuming way, but Carlos could detect a vague gingerness in his movements which lead him to one conclusion.

“Which one of those idiots hurt you out there?”

The older boy looked up, the question drawing him out of his own brooding thoughts and back into reality. “What? I’m fine.”

“Don’t even try,” Cruella’s son said firmly as he pushed the door open to their room. “I can see you holding your rib.”

Jay shook his head mulishly, lifting his hands up as proof. “I am not, Carlos!”

“Come here, let me take a look.” When the thief waved him off, the white-haired boy approached cautiously anyway. “I just want to see how bad it is. Take off your shirt.”

“Geez, Car, don't you think maybe you should take me out to dinner first?” the thief teased, pleased at how red the white-haired boy’s cheeks became.

“Shut the fuck up and let me see it.”

Protesting the whole time, Jay finally took off his shirt so the skin underneath could be inspected. Carlos gentle fingertips were met with a sudden tensing of the older boy’s muscles as he carefully probed the purple splotches above his abdomen. “Shit, man, you should put some ice on this.”

“It doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Still.” Carlos grabbed their ice bucket, which was luckily still half full, and began shoveling some into a plastic bag. “Put this on it, go lie down and rest.”

“I’m fine,” Jay grumbled again, but still allowed the younger boy to gently push him down onto his bed and fuss with the pillows. Once the ice pack was resting against his rib and Carlos was satisfied with the thief’s comfort level, he sat down on the edge of the mattress - a position both of them were quickly becoming well-acquainted with.

“What happened?”

“Went down hard on that last play before the half,” Jay mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Number seven’s stick went right into my rib.”

“Shit,” Carlos said again. “That’s why you tensed when I elbowed you back there.”

“Yeah, that fucking hurt.”

Now that Jay was lying down, Cruella’s son was able to take a better look at the injury. “It looks a bit swollen, can you breathe okay?”

The older boy took an experimental breath, nodding. “Yeah. It’s not too bad when I’m still.” Jay adjusted the ice pack, his breath catching the tiniest bit. “I don’t think it’s broken, I’ve had a couple of those and they feel worse. Slipped off a pipe, fell while learning parkour…”

“I fell down the stairs, and I’m pretty sure I cracked something then,” Carlos offered, smiling a little. He didn't add that it was because his mother had pushed him.

“Don’t live too dangerously now,” the thief laughed, which hurt. He didn’t wince though; he didn't need the freckled boy to worry anymore.

“Do you need something?” Carlos smiled, patting Jay’s hand.

“Food.”

Laughing, the younger boy nodded. “I already ordered pizza while we were in the locker room during your Arabic expletive episode.”

“With extra cheese?” Jay asked eagerly with a grin.

“And stuffed crust, I know how you like it.”

If his rib hadn't been hurting so bad, he would have hugged Carlos right there. “You're a godsend.”

This made the younger boy’s cheeks flush pink and he looking down at his hands, trying not to smile too wide. “Not really.”

“Shut up and take the compliment.”

Losing hadn’t killed Jay’s appetite, if anything, it had increased it. When the food arrived, he attacked the slices like they were the opposing team. Or maybe even his own teammates after today’s outcome. Carlos wiped the grease from his mouth, polishing off several pieces of his own.

“What time is practice tomorrow?” the older boy asked finally, finishing off the last of his crust.

“Uh, not happening for you.” Carlos shook his head, putting the empty pizza box on the floor.

“‘Los, I -”

“Jay, rest is good.” The younger boy ran his fingers gently along the bruising, making Jay hiss through his teeth. “For fucks sake, dude, you’re not getting back on that pitch until you stop making _that_ noise.”

“You’re pressing on it, what did you think was gonna happen?” Jay managed to turn the hiss into a laugh, looking at him indignantly.

“I just wanted to see if it was swollen!”

“It is! You touching it isn’t helping!”

“Hey! If it weren’t for me, you’d probably still be pretending it never happened!” Carlos gave him a look, folding his arms.

“Not true! I would’ve taken care of it!”

“Well, sue me for wanting to be helpful.”

The boys flopped back down on Jay’s bed, huffing, trying to hide the smiles threatening to split their faces. Now that the pangs in their stomachs had been satisfied by pizza, they both finally felt the effects of the game take hold. Carlos yawned first, followed immediately by Jay, and by the time Evie walked in a few hours later, both boys were both fast asleep on each other.

Sighing some, the blue-haired princess folded her arms. “Oh, honestly. And here I thought you were skipping dinner. Should've known better.” She eyed the pizza box on the floor, then carefully spread a blanket over the two. “Sleep well, my clueless boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have stolen my heart! Thank you for motivating me every day with your sweet words, thank you for being seriously so supportive! Keep being amazing, I'm grateful for all of you.  
> :)


	23. No Evil Thing Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Auradon's doctors hurt instead of heal

>   _“I don't care about whose DNA has recombined with whose._
> 
> _When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching-_
> 
> _they are your family.”_
> 
> _~ Jim Butcher_

* * *

 “Just say ‘yes’,” a voice said in Carlos’ ear.

Instinctively, his head whipped around, nearly banging into the wall as he struggled to get away.

“Woah, woah, Carlos, sorry.” The voice sent a warmth through him, remeding his quickened pulse.

“Shit, Jay.” Rubbing his forehead, the younger boy took a moment to catch his breath.

The thief bit his lip, looking around. “I’m sorry, ‘Los, I really didn’t mean to scare you. Listen, they’re gonna call you in soon,” he said in a low voice. “Whatever you do, just say yes.”

“Why? What do they ask?”

“Carlos de Vil?” A woman came to the doorway that Jay had just exited. “They’re ready for you.”

Jay gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted was for Carlos to go back there alone. “‘Los, they make you to undress… and when they ask if you've, you know, fucked around, you just say yes, okay? That way they don't press you to give details. Don't explain. You don't owe them anything, it's not worth making yourself upset.”

The younger boy’s skin was white beneath his freckles. “Jay… I don't wanna go…”

“It's going to be okay.” At least, the thief really hoped it would. “It’ll only take a little bit and then, you can come home.”

“Home?”

“Back to our room,” Jay said, eyeing the impatient nurse still looking in their direction. “That's home, now, right?”

“Right.”  Carlos still hadn't moved, looking at the doorway in frozen apprehension.

“Go on, ‘Los.” With a gentle push, the thief watched the younger boy walk towards the door and disappear.

Jay told himself that Carlos would be okay. That he'd get through this. He tried not to remember how Carlos changed separately, or the way he cried in his sleep about the gangs that had cornered him.

“Walk away, man,” the dark-haired boy muttered to himself. “Don't be like this.” But he couldn't seem to leave, he just sat down heavily in the chair Carlos had just vacated and tried not to look too bothered.

On the island, there had been no hospitals and certainly no routine check-ups. Frankly, it was a little disquieting that some stranger could obtain the liberty to see them fully naked, to poke and prod and ask questions, no matter what everyone said about their licensing and education.

If it had been left up to him, Jay wouldn't have opted to have a physical examination anyway. Unfortunately, Ben had said that they were required for sports, and while the thief didn't much enjoy being looked at and examined, he did love tourney. Carlos, on the other hand, didn't have that same driving athletic determination. Hell, the kid didn't even like going shirtless unless it was with Jay.

“Please let him be okay,” the older boy found himself muttering. “He's got to be okay, don't let them ask questions… or touch him…” He’d tried to explain to Ben the best he could. That Carlos didn't like it. That Carlos _couldn't_ handle it. But the king didn't get it, he just didn't. Ben had repeated over and over that that's why they had doctors, to help, that they weren't gonna hurt him. That Carlos would see he was perfectly safe.

 _There's no such thing as perfectly safe,_ Jay thought. _Or perfect._

 

**x/x**

 

Hands.

That was what Carlos remembered.

A hundred different hands, but none of them belonging to the blurs of white that Ben had explained were “medical professionals”.

Dirty hands, hands of scavengers, of barbarians, of hungry shadows.

There was a dull burning in his lower lip, which meant his teeth had broken through the skin they’d clamped onto.

He hadn’t said a word, not a word. Not one word or mewl or whimper. He wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. Jay had told him not to say anything; they didn’t deserve it.

“Mr. de Vil, can you bend over and touch your toes for me?”

_Please don’t touch me, please don’t touch me, please don’t touch me._

“Honey, I really need you to bend over. Just do the best you can, plenty of people can’t touch their toes. I’m just going to check your breathing.”

_It’s not good. It’s not good. I can’t breathe._

“Mr. de Vil -”

_My name is Carlos. Carlos. That’s my name. That last name belongs to her._

There were others in the room now, swarming in like little white ants, their buzzing voices only increasing the ringing in his ears. He wanted to go home, he wanted to be away from them, he wanted Jay.

“... won’t talk to me.”

“...  completely empty medical records, that’s the issue with these island ones.”

“... predisposition to his mother’s same condition…”

Everything in him was churning. Thoughts, blood, everything. They were saying he'd be just like her… that he’d turn into _her._

“... run some tests…”

“.... keep an eye on him…”

“... signs of development…”

The words joined the blood, spinning in front of his eyes. Spinning, spinning, spinning. Malnourishment, underweight, stunted growth, scarred derma. Oh, the scars. Carlos could feel every one of them, as if they'd just been inflicted, burning with a special kind of pain.

“Mr, de Vil, have you ever had periods of time where you felt like you didn't have control?”

_Oh baby, you're gonna be just like me._

The voice was back, mixing with his own internal narration. He wouldn't be like her, he couldn't, he refused.

_Just. Like. Me._

_“..._ her condition has genetic pathways, there is a chance that it could manifest in you.”

If he was going to be his mother… his friends were in danger. Everyone was in danger. He could still see, clear as day, the way her eyes changed once the madness entered them.

“.... Carlos?”

The smooth voice cut through all the other ringing and unintelligible ones. He looked up for the first time and realized he was back outside.

“ ‘Los… you just walked out.” Jay was looking at him, concerned. “What do you need right now?”

Carlos couldn't make his voice work. Nothing was working. Frustrated, he made a face, which prompted Jay to reach his arm out.

“Do you wanna home?” When prompted by a small nod, the older boy took his arm. “Okay, come on.”

It was like the kid was sleepwalking. The whole walk back to their dorm, Jay studied Carlos carefully, noting the way his eyes glazed over and his mouth was set in that familiar hard line - like it was trapping the screams inside. What had they done to him? What had they done to his Carlos?

“‘Los.” His voice was gentle, yes, but the thief couldn't help the note of anger that slid in without his permission.

But Carlos kept his mouth sealed tight, his fingers nervously twitching, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

“I knew this was a bad idea. I told Ben, I tried to tell him -” the older boy’s rant was cut off by a sudden movement as Carlos’ hands flew to his ears.

Jay stopped talking immediately, swallowing the rest of his outburst. Strangely enough, Carlos averted his touch, something he usually melted into. He just needed to recover, the thief knew. Then they could talk about whatever hell they’d put him through in there.

Except, the freckled boy didn’t come around for the rest of the evening, just sitting on his bed in a sort of stupor. Jay was sure he’d have been ready to talk by morning, but the white-haired boy just shook his head and declined going down to breakfast, hiding behind his computer in such a way as if to shield himself from Jay.

Was he suddenly afraid of him? Had he done something wrong, said something that hurt him?

Evie noticed Jay’s lack of appetite (granted, he usually had several plates of breakfast, so it wasn’t altogether a subtle change).  

“Jay?” She looked at him, concern fleeting across her face. “You haven’t caught that fever Carlos had, have you?” The princess reached out to feel his forehead, but he swatted her away.

“‘M fine.”

“Fine, my ass,” she scoffed, folding her arms. “You’ve barely touched your plate, what’s up?”

“Nothing! Geez!”

“Leave it be, E,” Mal groused, her features weighed down by, what Evie like to call, “Mal’s Morning Slump”. The purple haired fairy picked morosely at her pancakes, rubbing her eyes. “He probably just took another trip to the kitchens with his boyfriend.”

“Speaking of Carlos,” Evie said without batting an eyelash, drizzling syrup neatly over her own stack of pancakes. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Wait, what the _fuck?”_ Jay nearly choked on the water he’d just sipped, spluttering and feeling his nose burn like hell. “Wha- Mal - Evie, you called him my _what_?”

“Oh, relax,” Maleficent’s daughter seemed a little more alert now, her eyes gleaming with a hint of her old malice (watered down, but still a threat). “That’s just what Evie and I have been calling your little boy toy.”

“He’s not - I don’t - you really -” Jay gritted his teeth together, taking all his effort not to slam his fist down on the table. “Fuck you, Mal.”

“‘He doth protest too much’,” Evie mused, watching him closely, more amusement than malfiecense in her eyes. “That’s a line from a play, by the way.”

“First ‘Los?” Jay grumbled, still not meeting their eyes. “Now you? Is everyone in this school getting high off these scripts, what am I missing?”

“Not a whole lot,” the purple-haired fairy assured him. “They’re boring and full of words I can't bother to understand. Evie’s obsessed with them, though.”

“Not obsessed,” the princess laughed shyly. “They’re just very poetic. But seriously, Jay, we’re only joking-”

“Are we?” Mal added unhelpfully, shrugging her shoulders.

“Yes, M, we are.” Evie smiled at the thief apologetically. “And all jokes aside, where is Carlos? He hasn’t skipped a meal since… well, since last weekend, but that was for a science project. Oh, and then I found you boys sleeping together instead of coming down for dinner, but you ate pizza so that doesn’t exactly count -”

“You _what?”_ Jay was livid all over again, but Evie shushed him.

“Not like that, hun. After tourney the other night, calm yourself.”

“I am calm.” The thief’s expression turned sulky once more as he glared at the princess. “And Mal, before you get all gleeful again, Carlos isn’t talking to me. So much for your whole ‘boyfriend’ shit.”

“Why won’t Carlos talk to you? Did you hurt him?”

Jay knew Evie was just being compassionate, she was just looking out for them, but it was the choice of words that snapped something inside him. He threw his napkin down on his plate, standing up roughly. “I don’t know, okay? I’d never do it on purpose, I don’t… I wouldn’t touch a hair on his head! I’d protect that kid with my life!”

“Jay, wait-”

But he was storming out of the dining hall before either of the girls could say something to draw him back.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” The dark-haired boy looked down at his hands critically. They were rough with callouses and scarred in places, but for the first time, Jay saw them as unwieldy, like two guns - cocked and loaded - ready to go off at any moment. His mouth too, seemed suddenly uncontrollable. He was a walking, talking weapon waiting to destroy those he cared most about.

Whatever had happened yesterday with those doctors had scared Carlos, but the thief hadn't counted on the younger boy keeping it secret. They told each other everything, or at least _why_ they couldn’t. Never had Carlos completely cut him off like this, and Jay could only assume that it was his fault. He had to go back apologize, or at least give Carlos a chance to get angry with him.

But Jay pushed open their door, he pulled up short. “Hey, ‘Los -”

The younger boy had fallen asleep, his head resting the laptop in front of him. Any other day, the thief would've gently removed the computer and moved the boy to a more comfortable position, watching him carefully just in case he had a nightmare. But now, with Carlos barely speaking to him, Jay wasn't sure what to do. He didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already had.

Defeated, Jay just sank down onto his bed, staring at his best friend’s face. The boy’s eyebrows were scrunched some, and the thief recognized the restless murmuring, but before he could do anything about it, Carlos woke up on his own.

“Jay,” the freckled boy murmured softly, his eyes half open. “Jay… you… can't be here…”

The thief swallowed the lump in his throat, pulling at a stray thread in the seam of his leather vest. “Okay. Can you tell me why? At least? Then I'll leave.”

Carlos’ eyes were open all the way now, and he sat up, trying to move farther away from the older boy. “Please go, Jay, please leave! You can't be here!”

“Did I hurt you?” Jay studied the white-haired boy’s face, feeling like a failure. “Why do you keep shielding yourself from me?”

With a small gasp, Carlos deflated, his face crumpling. “No, that's not it. _I’m_ gonna hurt _you_ . You have to stay away from _me_ . I'm shielding you from _me_.”

“Good Lord, ‘Los, why the fuck would you think that?”

“They said… they said I would become her.” Carlos was curled into a ball, his arms hugging his knees, in a futile attempt to stop himself from crying.  “That it was bound to happen, in our genes… I’m gonna go crazy, like her, Jay.”

Jay’s fists balled up, but he managed to say in an even tone, “who is ‘they’, Car?”

“The doctors.”

That's all it took for Jay to explode inside. He felt a surge of pure electricity light up his veins, and his fists hardened still further. The older boy was too angry to speak. How dare they tell Carlos that he would be just like this mother? How fucking dare they! After all these weeks of convincing the small boy that he was nothing like her, they'd gone and set him back. And he was gonna murder them. Jay also felt a little bit ashamed; once again, he’d assumed the world revolved around him.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos sniffed, his eyes threatening to spill the tears pooling in the corners, which was enough to put Jay’s rage on hold for a moment. He had to remind his best friend that these doctors knew nothing first.

“Listen to me,” Jay moved over to Carlos’ bed, putting an arm around him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You aren't like your mother, I don't give a fuck about what they said.”

“You’re j-just saying t-that,” the younger boy sobbed, holding Jay’s arm like a lifeline. “Ben said t-they’re smart… they know. Y-you can't p-prove anything.”

“Yes,” the thief said softly. “Yes, I can. What would your mother do to that dog?” He pointed to Dude, who was lying at Carlos’ feet, watching them with concerned, dark eyes.

“D-drown him…” the freckled boy gasped. “And s-skin h-him…. and h-hurt him… and she wouldn't c-care; s-she’d enjoy it.”

“Would she love him?” Jay carefully rubbed Carlos’ back, speaking softly.  

“No.”

“And you know what?” Jay asked, looking down at the boy in his arms. “I know someone who does love him. Who wouldn't hurt a hair on his head. Who apologizes whenever he comes home late. And gives the best hugs in the world.”

“Me?” Carlos still sounded unsure, but his grip had loosened on Jay’s arm.

“You.” The thief gave him a small smile. “Your last name may be de Vil, ‘Los, but that's the only thing you have in common with that bitch. Understand?”

The younger boy nodded, burying his face in the crook of Jay’s neck, his cheeks still slick with tears. “Please don't go after those doctors.”

“You mean those fucking idiots who put these ideas in your head? You’re never going back to them, no matter what Ben says, I won’t allow it. And I really wanna make them pay for this.” Jay fiddled with the ring on his finger, frowning. “Why can’t I?”

“‘cause they’ll send you back,” came the muffled explanation. “And I can't lose you.”

The words settled right into Jay’s chest with a sudden warmth, and he felt it rise to his face, too. “Oh… okay,” he agreed finally. “Ok, I won't. I can't lose you either.”


	24. We Keep This Love in a Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a photo proves to be worth a thousand words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is centered around the second book in the Isle of the Lost series, when the four villain kids return to the Isle and search for their parent's talismans. My story picks up right after Carlos saves Mal from drowning and Jay takes him back to the Junk Shop for dry clothes. If you haven't read the book, I highly suggest it, it adds a lot to the characters. :)

>   _“You, of all people, deserve a happy ending._
> 
> _Despite everything that happened to you, you aren't bitter._
> 
> _You aren't cold. You've just retreated a little and been shy, and that's okay._
> 
> _If I were a fairy godmother, I would give you your heart's desire in an instant._
> 
> _And I would wipe away your tears and tell you not to cry.”_
> 
> _~ Sylvain Reynard_

* * *

 Carlos was rather proud of himself.  

In the span of twenty four hours, the (albeit fragile) bubble of safety he'd managed to construct in the past six months had completely imploded. Hell hadn't come to heaven, no, they had gone looking for it. And still, he hadn't lost his mind.

Yet.

The Isle was just as awful as he remembered it, maybe even worse in places. Run-down, callous, and starving. None of the badass glory the other kids at Auradon seemed to think it held. The place stank, the people were miserable, and everything about it made Carlos long for Auradon’s bright, cheerful exterior.

And now, on top of everything else, he was soaked to the bone.

“When we g-get b-back,” he muttered, his teeth chattering together as he and Jay walked through the darkening streets. “I’m g-gonna throw Mal’s ass in the enchanted lake and teach that motherfucker how to s-swim.”

“You’re shivering,” Jay observed, looking around. It was strange to be back in such a brutal environment. He kept looking over his shoulder, scanning all areas at once, standing taller than he had in awhile. What if someone saw them walking close together? Friends didn’t exist on the Isle, and he didn’t want to make either of them a target.

The thief had been lucky enough to come away from the Rescue-Mal mission both unscathed and completely dry. Carlos, on the other hand, was barefoot, holding his dripping shoes, and walking gingerly - as if the cold, wet fabric was chafing him (which it probably was).

“I didn’t know you couldn’t swim, either,” Carlos said quietly as they walked. “At least you had the good sense to tell us, that way I didn’t have to jump in and save you, too.”

“Shhh.” Looking around, Jay hoped no one had heard. He had no intention of being drowned any time soon. “Shut up.”

“I hope Mal’s grateful,” the younger boy said softly. “I nearly got snapped up by a crocodile for her. Nice work with that ‘tick-tock’ chant, though. I owe you.”

“Don’t you always?” the thief gave him a smile, almost balking as they turned onto a familiar street. He’d grown up here: stolen his first gold watch on that corner, swung off that pipe a dozen times, landed his first backflip on that roof. The place looked both familiar and shakingly different at the same time.

“Weird, isn’t it?” Carlos voice was soft, and the dim, orange light from a cracked lantern cast shadows across his face.

“Yeah, totally.” Jay looked around carefully, undoing the chains and padlocks on the Junk Shop door, then ushering Carlos quickly inside.  

If possible, the inside of the shop was almost colder than the streets. All the clutter on the shelves that spilled down onto the floor made Carlos’ perfectionist little heart beat faster, and a trickle of sweat joined the sea water on his face. Everywhere he looked there were piles of rusty this and cracked that: toasters, clocks, springs, and something that looked like part of a frame from a bicycle.

“Home, sweet home,” Jay mumbled, shutting and locking the door behind him. “Sorry for the mess. I… would say it’s because I haven’t been home, but it’s always like this.”

The freckled boy shook his head. “It’s okay. You should’ve seen Hell Hall today.” He accidentally brushed up against a strange mess of metal, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Carlos sneezed five times, his face bright red.

Jay quickly pulled Carlos past the shelf, apologizing again and doing his best to dust the place. “Seriously, Car, I’m really sorry. This place is a dust trap, I always told Pops he should at least try to liven the place up, maybe we’d get more customers.”

“Jay…” In the older boy’s hurry, he’d sent a stack of paper by the cash register fluttering to the ground. Carlos recognized old school projects and report cards (the thief had been an Evil Penchant student at Dragon Hall, like himself). A yellowed selection of photographs lost their bent paper clip and Cruella’s son knelt down to examine them, his head tilted. Despite their age, they were still in relatively good condition, and he recognized a slightly messier version of Jay’s handwriting at the bottom.

_Selfies 101, Dragon Breath and Gold Digger_

The first faded image showed a much younger Jay, already wearing his characteristic smirk, and a much less enthusiastic Mal flipping the camera off. Picking up another photo, Carlos saw Mal glaring at a flexing Jay, and compared it to one of the two laughing. Both of them had the familiar haunted look in their eyes, more emaciated than they were now, but still happier than they should’ve been; the freckled boy couldn’t stop staring.

“Where’d you -” The thief came around the counter and found Carlos on the floor, smiling at the handful of old polaroids. “Oh, those, damn, I remember that project. We got a pretty low grade, Mal was pissed. Apparently, we didn’t look ‘self obsessed enough’.” He sat on the floor next to the white-haired boy, looking over his shoulder.

“I think you look perfect.” Carlos was still smiling, staring at each image carefully. “Look how short your hair was…”

The older boy chuckled, taking one of the photos and studying it. “Shit, you’re right.”

“Dragon Breath?” the freckled boy grinned, pointing at the label. “And Gold Digger? Were those like nicknames?”

“Sort of,” Jay laughed, smiling. “It started as a way to piss each other off. Everyone was so scared of Mal back then.” The thief’s expression turned thoughtful, his eyes getting a faraway, almost melancholy look to them. “No one got to see the side of her that I did. We were still little assholes, but every once and awhile… it was really nice to have her around. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

“I wouldn’t dare, she’d probably pummel me,” Carlos promised, looking up at his best friend. “Geez, I wonder what my mom did with all my old school projects. Probably burned them.”

“Aw, does that mean I can’t see pictures of little Carlos?” The older boy laughed, folding his arms.

“I wasn’t much to look at, seriously,” the white-haired boy assured him. “I looked so underfed, dude, like imagine a freckled skeleton.”

“Well, you don’t look like that now,” Jay promised, giving him a sideways hug. “Oh shit, you’re still soaking wet, let me go grab you some clothes.”

“Uh… your clothes?” Carlos hated how warm his cheeks got.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” The thief stood up. “I think I have some of my old sweaters tucked away somewhere. They might still be kinda big, but at least they'll be dry.”

Carlos watched Jay disappear, noticing the way he ran his fingers absentmindedly along the wall, as if he'd done it a thousand times. It was strange, the younger boy thought, to be back here. And as much as he hated it, he started associating the places in the shop with Jay’s stories. Over there was the kitchen, where his Jafar had counted his coins. Every single item on these shelves had Jay’s fingerprints on them, had cost him something - be it blood, or dignity. The kids in Auradon would never understand, with their judgmental stares and whispers they thought he couldn't hear. They wouldn't know where they'd grown up, how they'd scraped by. And they never ever would.

“Okay, I think I found some stuff that’ll fit you.” Jay’s voice cut back into his thoughts, welcome and warm. “Might still be a touch big.” He tossed Carlos a sweater and some shorts, but that wasn’t all he was carrying. “Oh, and ‘Los, look what I found.” The thief set a box on the floor, opening it. “My dad used to make me test all the cameras before putting them on the shelves. He’d price the ones that actually worked a lot higher.”

“More pictures?” Carlos laughed eagerly, stripping off his wet sweater and sliding into the one Jay had brought him. He took a shuddering breath in, feeling the dry fabric against his skin. It smelled like, well, Jay. A mix of spices and something else that was just inherently his best friend. The sleeves covered his hands, but strangely enough, it made him feel safer, like he was wrapped up in a perpetual hug from the person who made him feel the safest.

“They’re cringey as fuck, but I thought you’d like to see them.” The dark-haired boy brought out more polaroids, these much more faded and some even looked a bit water logged. Many of them were overexposed, or nearly black, but the ones that weren’t were priceless.

“Oh my God, Jay!” Carlos laughed, still tugging on the dry pair of shorts. “How old were you in that one?”

“There, maybe seven. Eight, actually, see, I’d just stolen that necklace from the marketplace.” Jay laughed, his cheeks the slightest bit pink. It was the only time Carlos had ever seen him really blush.

“Look at that hair!” the freckled boy gasped, covering his mouth. “I say we go back to that.”

“It’s shorter than yours here!” the thief grinned, shaking his head. “I like it long, thank you very much.”

“Why are there so many shirtless pictures, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Hey, ‘Los?” Jay asked after a while, turning to the smaller boy. “Wanna take a picture?”

“Of you?”

“No,” the thief laughed, smiling. “Together. Of us.”

“Oh.” It was Carlos’ cheeks that turned pink this time. “Do you have a camera?”

“One of these should work.” Jafar’s son walked over to a collection of old polaroids, examining them and fiddling with their buttons. When he found one that turned on, he brought it back over. “I loaded the film in this myself, it should be good.”

“So, how do you want to do this?” Carlos asked, biting his lip to keep from smiling too widely. In response, he felt Jay’s arm being slung over his shoulder

“Smile, dumbass,” the older boy grinned, turning the camera around. “Those spoiled Auradon kids never learned how to take a selfie without a smartphone screen to help them. I, on the other hand, am a pro at taking good pics no matter how busted the camera.”

“Obviously, you have a box of - ow!” Carlos laughed as the comment earned him a playful shoulder punch.

A flash, a moment of blindness, and then the camera spit out the picture. Carlos watched, fascinated, as it developed. They took several more pictures, each boy pocketing a couple.

“What should we do with this one?” Carlos asked, studying one of the images left over.

“Here.” Jay put it into the box, and after a moment, added the Selfie project ones as well.

“We’re just… gonna leave them?” the white-haired boy felt a twinge in his chest, imagining the photos sitting in that box on a shelf for all eternity, fading away entirely.

“Well, we can’t carry all of them home, can we?” Jay stared into the box, shrugging. “It’s okay. They’re just pictures. I can look at myself in the mirror anytime I want. Or at Mal, but who would want to do that.”

But the younger boy couldn’t just leave them. Carefully, he sifted through the images, taking some of his very favorites. The one of eight year old Jay, another one of him laughing, and finally, the one of the images with Jay and Mal goofing off.

“I’m keeping these,” he said softly.

“Ok.” Jay was watching him, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Should I take the one of us out?” Carlos stared critically down at it, chewing his lip. “It doesn’t really fit with the rest.”

“What?” the older boy looked at him quizzically. “This is a box full of my favorite people. You sure as hell belong in there.”

“That implies that you yourself are one of your own favorite people.” Carlos’ face was redder than ever, trying to ignore what Jay had just said. Was he really one of Jay’s favorites? He must be, the guy had just said so himself.  

“Sure, why not?” the thief grinned, ruffling the smaller boy’s damp curls. He put the lid back on the box. “I’m gonna go hide this, okay?”

“Can I come with you?” Cruella’s son didn’t want to be alone in the front of the shop again.

“Sure. Don’t, uh, judge too harshly though.” The dark-haired boy shifted from foot to foot, his earrings catching the light from the small, buzzing lamp in the corner. “I didn’t exactly have a bed.”

“Me neither.”

When Jay showed him the carpet roll he’d slept on for sixteen years that lay beneath a unit of sagging shelves, the younger boy finally understood why Jay always hated going under his bed back in Auradon to retrieve dirty laundry or stray tourney balls. There was about a foot or two of space between the floor and the bottom of the last shelf, very similar to the amount of space between his Auradon bed frame and the hardwood in their dorm.

“Yeah, uh… I used to be terrified that those would fall down on me in the middle of the night,” Jay confessed, scratching his neck. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

“Nah, man, I’m scared they’re gonna fall down right now.” Carlos squinted at the rug. “Can you even fit under there anymore?”

“It was a lot easier when I was younger, that’s for sure.” Jay shrugged, offering him a small smile. He carefully bent down, pulling back the carpet some and lifting up a loose floorboard near the wall, stowing the box neatly in the space hollowed out. “I used to store all kinds of shit down here. When you sleep on the floor, you make due I guess.”

“I’m not sure who had it worse, you or me.” Cruella’s son shivered at his own memory of sleeping on the floor. “I slept on the ground, too. Had a grey mattress in my mother’s dressing room.” He’d never been able to say that out loud before.

“Shit, bet that was fun.”

“Yeah, a blast.”

Both boys shook their heads, making eye contact. Carlos wasn’t sure who started laughing first, but the next thing he knew, they were both laughing so hard their ribs ached.

“Pathetic,” Jay shook his head, still grinning. “Our lives were actually pathetic.”

“Why are we laughing?”

“Because sometimes, when shit hits the fan… that’s all you can do.”

And it was a good enough answer for Carlos.


	25. Promise of Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys discover their space between is filled with promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up during the second movie when the boys return to their dorm to create a fake wand on Carlos' 3D printer. I'm guessing most people have seen Descendants 2, but if not, that's your context for this part of the story.

>   _“Tomorrow._
> 
> _The word hangs in the air for a moment, both a promise and a threat._
> 
> _Then it floats away like a paper boat, taken from her by the water licking at her ankles.”_
> 
> _~ Thrity Umrigar_

* * *

 “Do you think we’re gonna die?”

The question caught Jay off guard, which was odd because Carlos often asked strangely rattling questions. It took him a moment to figure out what made this one different. And then he got it: Carlos’ other questions were about living.

 

_Jay, why were we born?_

_Do you think it’s possible to live forever?_

_Why are we alive?_

_Do our souls or our hearts keep us conscious?_

 

And Jay’s answers were always the same, delivered with a classic, charismatic smile.

 

_Don’t know._

_Don’t think so._

_Don’t want to know._

_Why not both?_

 

But this, this question was a whole different story. Because for the first time, not knowing was detrimental. Not knowing meant that anything was possible. Not knowing gave the wrong answer a chance to be right.

The thief watched Carlos standing beside his printer, his eyes fixated on the wand beginning to take shape. Jay remembered seeing the younger boy carrying out his upgrades to the machine; how he’d chewed the end of his pencil as he sketched out diagrams, the way his eyes had narrowed in concentration or how he’d pushed stray white curls back while inspecting wires and circuits and a hundred things the older boy didn’t understand and probably never would.

“You’re not answering.” Carlos’ eyes never left the wand, bringing Jay back to the present and reminding him of the ominous inquiry still hanging in the air. “That’s bad.”

“Not necessarily.” Jay gave him a little shrug. “I feel like this is the kind of question that doesn’t need an answer.”

“That’s stupid.” The freckled boy looked up at last, a small smile ghosting across his face. “Every question needs an answer.”

“Not this one,” the son of Jafar repeated stubbornly, punctuating his reply with a shrug. “Sometimes it’s better not to answer. In case it’s wrong.”  

“I don’t want to die.”

Jay bit the inside of his cheek, feeling his ribs close in on his chest for just a moment or two. “I know. Me neither.”

“No, Jay, I used to not care about dying,” Cruella’s son said, his fingers tracing soft patterns on his arms to keep the unshed tears from spilling over. “Back with my mother… I thought… the pain would stop. I thought... I was gonna die anyway…”

“Most people on the island figured the same.” Jay knew this. He’d seen it happen. Maybe even felt it himself, if he was honest. But it still made his heart sore just thinking about Carlos ever feeling that _useless_. The thief tried to imagine what life would be like if the smaller boy had ever given in to those thoughts, but it was too difficult; he couldn't imagine a world without Carlos de Vil. “Do you…” he cleared his throat. “Do you still think about that? Ever?”

“No, not anymore.” A tear rolled down the side of Carlos’ face, tracing a glossy track amongst his freckles. “I don’t know when it changed… but I…. I don’t wanna die. I have you. And the girls. And you. Especially you. If I die, I’ll never get to try an ice cream sundae with hot fudge or see you win another tourney game or pass any of my classes. And if you die, who’s gonna sing me to sleep? Who’s gonna laugh about stupid shit and do stupid shit and get us both in trouble by saying stupid shit?” He was really crying now, his words interrupted by an occasional gasp or gulp.

“Carlos…”

And then Jay was hugging him, pulling the smaller boy into his arms. They stood for a long while, the only sounds in the room being the hum of the printer and Carlos’ occasional sob.

“What if we can't rescue Ben?”

Jay wished he would stop asking questions. “We’re gonna rescue him.”

“But what if we can't?” the smaller boy insisted. “What will happen to us? They'll probably blame us, and no one will be able to prove otherwise. Ben has been our strongest supporter here. What if they don't let us come home?”

“Well…. we’ll just have to make sure the king stays alive.” Jay held Carlos tighter, rubbing small circles on his back. “He stays alive, we stay alive, and everyone is gonna make it home.”

The younger boy looked up at him, his cheeks still wet, and the thief used his sleeve to gently wipe them dry. Carlos still looked miserable, his chest heaving with the leftover effects of crying. Desperately wanting to see him smile again, Jay tried a move he’d executed on hundreds of girls, raising the smaller boy’s arm over his head and attempting to spin him around.

“What are you doing?” Carlos half-laughed. His voice was still broken, but at least there was some laughter hiding underneath.

“Spinning you,” the older boy laughed, still trying to turn him. “Come on,I’ve seen you tear up the dance floor before, you can turn better than this.”

“You’re the worst jock in the history of jocks.” Cruella’s son conceded to spin slowly in a circle before coming back to face Jay.

“Fuck off, I’m a good jock!”

“Says the guy who was just spinning me around like he's some sort of fairytale prince.”

Jay turned away, but it didn’t hide the pout in his voice. “I’m a fantastic jock, thank you very much. My trophy over there would like a few words with you.”

“Fine, fine,” coaxed Carlos, rolling his eyes. “Come on, fragile-ego, turn around, I didn’t mean it.”

“Ooh, roasted.”

Both boys looked over at the dog who’d just entered their conversation. It was still rather unnerving to hear words coming out of his mouth instead of the usual puppy whines.  

“See, even my dog agrees with me,” Carlos grinned, looking triumphant.

Jay shook his head, raising an eyebrow. “Okay, remind me again how that hot mess happened?”

“Excuse me, I believe the only mess in this room is the rat’s nest you call hair hiding beneath that hat.” Dude’s tail thumped on the bed, and the thief could've sworn he smiled.

“God, ‘Los, he’s so cringy,” the dark-haired boy groaned. “Did you teach him this shit?”

“Don’t look at me.” Carlos held up his hands. “He came up with this stuff all by himself.”

“Well, tell him it sucks.”

“Don’t be mean to my dog.”

Pulling one of their chairs closer to the printer, Jay sat down, sliding off his beanie and running his fingers through the (yes, tangled) hair underneath. “Okay, okay, but how’d it happen? Did Mal fuck up her magic again?”

“No, actually, it was kind of my fault,” Carlos confessed, grabbing another chair to sit beside him and letting his eyes wander to Jay’s adorably unruly hair. “I needed a truth gummy and he ate it.”  

“Truth gummy?” the thief wrinkled his nose. “What the fuck for?”

“Um…” the younger’s cheeks went pink, and he acquired a sudden fascination with the bed covers. “Certain words that wouldn’t come. I needed to… prove to myself I could say them. That… they were real, and not just something I’d put together to hide.”

“You’re not making sense.” Jay put his hand on top of Carlos’, which made the freckled boy’s head snap up as he looked from his best friend’s face to their hands. “What’s bothering you? What can’t you say?”

Carlos didn’t know how to put the rest of it into words. How to describe the desperation he felt when thinking about getting a date, the way he needed himself to watch her and talk to her and be with her. It didn’t make sense in his own brain, and he knew it would sound even more confusing out loud. “I needed to ask Jane out,” he finally blurted, omitting the rest of his thought process. “And I didn’t know how.”

“Oh, well that’s easy,” Jay teased, grinning. “All you need are those three magic words: ‘you’… ‘are’… ‘so’.... ‘fucking’... ‘hot’. That’s it. Got her.”

“Okay, first of all, that was five words, and second that’s a disgusting mentality -”

“I was kidding, ‘Los,” the thief assured him with a smile. “No, in all honesty, if you have to _force_ it, maybe there’s a reason.”

“What reason?”

“I dunno,” Jay shrugged, ruffling the younger boy’s hair just like he always did. “But you’re gonna have to figure it out.”

“If I live that long.”

“Ok, we’re not fucking going back to the conversation I worked so hard to get us out of,” Jay laughed, shaking his head. “I promise, we’re not gonna die. And neither is Ben.”

“You keep making promises…” the white-haired boy held the thief’s gaze, his eyes searching the older’s face for any hints of uncertainty, but finding nothing but sound resolution. “Are you sure you can keep them?”

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

“Well… no.”

“Exactly.” Jay gave him another bolstering smile, pulling his beanie back on. “Now tell that printer of yours to hurry up, we gotta get back before the girls start joking about us fucking around again.”

“I don’t think Mal is in the right headspace for jokes right now,” Carlos pointed out, listening to the gentle sounds of the printing wand.

“Oh, yeah.” The older boy realized he’d never gotten around to telling Cruella’s son about the girls “boyfriend” jokes the other week, but before he could bring it up, Carlos interrupted his thoughts.  

“Shit.” The younger boy had pulled up the progress on his phone, and now, he winced apologetically. “I underestimated how long this would take, we’ve still got a good hour or two.” His words ended in yawn as the adrenaline of the night finally started to ebb away. The signs of fatigue weren’t lost on Jay, and he lay back in the chair some.

The soft purr of the printer sent the already exhausted boys into a lull, their spurts of conversation becoming farther and farther apart until neither were talking at all. Jay’s head dropped onto Carlos’ shoulder, his eyes slowly closing, and the younger followed suit.

Just before they fell asleep, a single thought crossed both of their minds: the other was the best thing that had ever happened to them, and promises or no, they were gonna keep fighting to make it to the next sunrise.


	26. Where There's Smoke...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the literal seams are sewn tight and the emotional ones start to fray

> _"It felt natural, somehow, to be beside him—_
> 
> _natural and reassuring—_
> 
> _like coming home after a long journey to finally sleep in your own bed.”_
> 
> _~ Mereda Hart Farynyk_

* * *

 “Evie’s really outdone herself.”

The boys were standing in front of their newly delivered Cotillion suits, examining them with awe.

“She always does.” Carlos smiled, running his finger down the front of his tux.

“Pretty sure this was made from blood, sweat, and tears - both hers and mine.” Jay nodded approvingly at the maroon ensemble the blue-haired princess had designed. “Hers because, well, she made it. And mine because she stuck me with a pin half a dozen times during fitting sessions!”

“‘Cause you wouldn't stop moving, dumbass,” the freckles boy laughed, shaking his head. "I didn't get pricked once." 

“Wow, where's the award?" Jay joked dryly, making a face. "I can't help moving around; she knows I can't stand still that long.”

“Yeah, yeah, I've heard all your excuses." Carlos grinned, studying the fabric on his white jacket. "I’m guessing this is made from some sort of vegan leather: I told her I didn't want to have any animals killed to make me look good.” 

“Goodbye fur,” the thief smiled, thumping Carlos on the back. “This looks great, ‘Los, I’m glad you’ve sorta done away with the whole ‘dead animals’ look.” 

“Thanks. Blame my mom.”

“Always have, always will.” Jay thought for a moment, his eyebrows knitting together. “Hey ‘Los, did you ever ask out Jane?” The dark-haired boy was surprised to realize he almost didn’t want to know the answer.

“I did!” The younger boy simply beamed, nodding his head quickly. “Finally, you know, Dude really helped me out. I’m gonna miss it when the spell finally wears off.”

“That makes one of us,” Jay mumbled, his enthusiasm for the night deflating rapidly. He fell back on the bed with a loud groan. “Is it bad that I am _really_ not in the mood for this tonight?”

“Jay? The quintessential fuck boy?” the younger boy teased affectionately. “Not wanting to attend the blowout bash of the year? What’s next, is he going to stop hitting on every girl within a ten mile radius, too?”  

“Fuck off,” the thief whined, throwing a pillow in his direction. “I mean, we’ve gotten zero sleep in the past few days. How are you not exhausted?”

“An unhealthy dependency on caffeine pills. Now come on, Evie is gonna kill us if we’re late.” Carlos carefully took his new suit off the hanger, admiring it for a moment more before taking off his clothes.  

“Nice underwear,” Jay remarked from his position on the bed as the other boy stripped.  

“Get up off your ass and come get dressed,” Carlos replied, flipping him off.

“You said you take caffeine pills?” The words seemed to just then register with Jafar’s son.

The younger boy winced a little, shrugging. “Not so much here, but back on the island, they were the only way I could finish up my chores and not pass out.”

“Dude, where did you even get those?” Jay asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. “That shit was rare.”

“I used to do random stuff for the goblins like fix their heaters or make them batteries and other tech-related stuff in exchange for a week’s supply,” the freckled boy explained. “I think they took the bottles from the barges before they even docked. Actually, now that I think about it, I bet the pills were expired too.”

“Well, props for being so resourceful.” Jay thought about it. “Told you being smart would get you somewhere.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I told you that.” Carlos picked up the pillow on the floor and tossed it back on the bed, where it landed just a little too close to Jay to be an accident. “Now I don’t care what your reason for wanting to ditch is, get dressed before I leave your naked ass here.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Would too.”

“I’m not even the one naked here,” the thief pointed out, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to Carlos’ shirtless state. A spray of freckles bled into his chest, making it look like he’d been the canvas for Mal’s graffiti or something.

 _Really hot graffiti,_ Jay thought before he could stop himself. And then he really did stop himself when he remembered the younger boy had a date.

“Well, then get there,” Carlos ordered, breaking into his thoughts with a snap of his fingers. “I’m gonna go gel my hair, I swear to fucking God if you’re not dressed by the time I get back, I really am leaving.” Flicking the new jacket over his shoulder, he turned on his heel and headed towards the bathroom.

The older boy waited a few seconds after the younger disappeared to get up, just out of spite.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he groused, sliding off the bed and slowly changing into his Cotillion outfit. Jay wasn’t one for formal attire, but over all, even he had to agree that these had been impeccably created. And all by hand, which Jay couldn’t even comprehend. Sitting still for as long as Evie did, threading bobbin after bobbin, steadily moving the cloth? He’d rather have a double-fitness practice.

“How’s it coming out there?” came Carlos’ voice, and Jay sighed dramatically.

“Horrible. I don’t wanna go tonight!”

“Good.”

“Are you even listening to me?” The thief threw down his jacket, frowning at it, as if it were the root of all his problems.

“Nope.” Carlos emerged from the bathroom again, his hands on his hips. “Listen, you were all fine to go like ten minutes ago, what’s happened between then and now?”

Jay didn’t answer, he was preoccupied with the boy now standing in front of him and couldn’t seem to pull his gaze away. Now that he’d put it on, it turned out that Carlos’ jacket was somewhat cropped, allowing the crisp shirttails to show underneath. He had no idea how Evie had managed to make the perfect pair of tight red shorts, but she had. And Carlos was wearing the hell out of them. Not that Carlos didn’t look great in everything else, but this was something _more._ Something Jay couldn’t necessarily put his finger on. “White really is your color.”

“Fuck you,” Cruella’s son laughed softly, ducking his head, and the thief didn’t miss the faint pink in his cheeks. “Besides, you look pretty good yourself.”

“Don’t I always?” he quipped back, winking. “Hey, ‘Los, can I ask you something?”

“Depends,” the younger boy grinned, his eyebrows raised. “What is it?”

“Why do you keep straightening your hair?”

Laughing, the freckled boy started changing Dude into a tiny tux of his own. “Not the question I was expecting. I really don’t know. Makes me feel… um… older, cooler. It sounds even stupider out loud, I guess.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Blinking, Jay really tried to look away. The staring was becoming quite obvious.

“There, now Dude can look as handsome as everyone else.” Carlos picked up his dog, now dressed in an identical fashion, showing him off to Jay.

“He’s a stud,” the thief laughed, petting the little dog’s head. “Is he coming with us?”

“Unfortunately, no.” The white-haired boy’s smile faded a little. “I don’t want him to drown.”

“He won’t unless someone throws him off the boat!” Jay laughed, still scratching Dude behind the ears.

“What if he slips?” Carlos got the look on his face he always wore when he was being particularly stubborn. His chin jutted out, his lips formed a small pout, and his eyes narrowed. “What if someone accidently drops him overboard? He’s going to stay on dry land, thank you very much.”

“Okay, okay, your point has been made.” Jafar’s son shook his head. “Dude will stay here, safe and sound. You know, I could stay with him if -”

“Come on, Jay,” the smaller boy interrupted, dragging out the end of his name. “For the last time, you’re not staying here. Let’s go.”

As the boys turned to go, Jay stopped and looked at Carlos thoughtfully. “You know what, ‘Los?”

“Hmm?”

“I think you look perfectly cool with or without straight hair.”

The freckled boy bit his lip, laughing shyly. “Oh, really? And why is that?”

“I dunno. Like when you wake up and it’s all messy or when you run your hands through when you’re studying and shit like that,” the thief explained.

“If you’re trying to bribe me into covering for you so -”

“I’m not!”

Carlos looked unconvinced, pushing the older boy out the door. “Let’s go, dingus. No more flattery or I might punch you in your dick.”

“You’ll do that anyway,” Jay laughed, walking down the hall with him.

“Yup.” Cracking a sly smile, the white-haired boy looked over at his best friend. “You know me so well.”

“Too well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first of all, we've reached 100 kudos and I'm speechless. And if that weren't already enough, YOUR COMMENTS ARE THE SWEETEST, MOST MOTIVATING, MOST AMAZING PARTS OF MY DAY. THANK YOU GUYS! I CAN'T EXPRESS HOW GRATEFUL I AM.


	27. Blossoms of Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the tension finally breaks (and subsequently causes more)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's excited that Descendants 3 officially started production yesterday?! (I'll give you a hint: it's me) I'm so happy to see the cast reunited and excited beyond belief!

> _“What a strange thing!_
> 
> _to be alive_
> 
> _beneath cherry blossoms.”_
> 
> _~ Kobayashi Issa_

* * *

 What Jay really wanted was a nap.

A really, really, _really_ long nap. One of those where he’d wake up peacefully in the middle of a warm afternoon, Carlos beside him, and have nothing else better to do than just to lie there together for hours and hours. He wanted to talk to his best friend about something besides swords and kings and ships and fake wands and cotillions. He wanted to go a whole day without constantly checking over his shoulders for suspicious figures, or navigating the grimy streets of the island, or for that matter, fear for the lives of his friends and himself at every turn. The thief simply wanted to lock the door to their dorm room (maybe change the lock too, he was really sick of Chad inviting himself in) and just _be._

It was the morning after the dance, and somehow, the nine hours of sleep Jay had managed to get just weren’t cutting it. Carlos had woken a few times with nightmares, as was to be expected, but for the first time in awhile, Jafar’s son had dreamt some demons of his own. He blamed it on spending all that time on the Isle again. Ghosts from his past weren’t pretty in darkness or in daylight, although light was preferred if he had to choose.

The dark-haired boy rolled over, stretching, and nearly knocked the freckled boy, who was still asleep beside him, out of bed.

“Hmph,” came Carlos’ groan, his voice husky from sleep. “Jay…”

“My bad.” Jay wrapped an arm around him, pulling him back onto the mattress. Oh, how grateful he was to be here after seeing his pitiful carpet roll again.

“Gonna be late,” the younger boy mumbled, his eyes still closed. “Gotta… get up…”

“It’s the weekend, you dork,” Jay laughed softly, propping himself up on an elbow to see him better.

“Oh.” Carlos opened his eyes into Jay’s staring into them with a level of intensity the latter wasn’t ready for this early on a Saturday. “Are we gonna talk about what happened at Cotillion last night?”

“You mean, our willingness to eat the stuff at the Cotillion buffet even though it got waterlogged?” he tried, hoping the younger boy wouldn’t press further.

“No, I mean the reason for the water in the first place.” Carlos wasn’t swayed by his friend’s joking. “Don’t front, I saw your face, you were just as shocked as I was. I mean, she just… left. So unlike her. Maybe she's still out there, did Ben even send someone to check that she made it back on the island? What if she's bringing more people over right now. Our parents -”

“‘Los,” Jay sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I really don’t wanna talk about anything that has to do with the Isle, Shrimpy included.”

“What's up?” the smaller boy searched his face carefully, his head tipped slightly, which Jay always thought made him look like a tiny, confused puppy or something.

“Nothing, I'm just… hoping for a little bit of normalcy.” Jay didn't want to talk about the sudden onset of nightmares or the way he broke out in a cold sweat every time he thought of seeing his dad again.

“You and I both know that's not all.” Carlos put a gentle hand on Jay’s arm, looking up at him. The thief knew the younger boy wouldn't force him to say anything, but there was just something about the way Carlos stared at him that rendered all his defense systems useless.

“I… I’ve been having some shitty dreams,” Jay bit the inside of his lip angrily.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” the freckled boy traced the dark shadows under Jay’s eyes with a light finger.

“You were sleeping.” It was at least part of the truth. By this point, Jay had learned that if Carlos was asleep, it was in everyone’s interest to leave him that way; he never got enough as it was.

“Come on,” Carlos gave him a half smile. “I wake you up nearly every night and you never complain. It’s my turn.” That was also true, and they both knew it.

“‘Los, I -”

“You’re scared.” The younger boy met his eyes, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the truth, isn’t it? You’re scared?”

“I don’t get… not exactly…” He sighed. “I really like our lives here. And… what if they start bringing people over that we don’t necessarily have good history with? If going back to the Isle taught me anything it’s that I never realized how _alert_ we used to have to be. I don’t want Auradon to turn into another place where we have to be on our guard all the time.”

“Hook?”

“Yeah,” Jay nodded. “And Tremaine and Gothel’s girl and every other asshole who has the possibility to make this place another hell. We’ve already been through that once, I don’t need us to live it all over again and  - ‘Los, what are you doing?”

Carlos had gotten up out of bed, taking his hand. “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

“Neither of us are dressed!”

“Then put on some clothes, dumbass!”

A few minutes later, Jay was being pulled out into the sunlight by the white-haired boy who still hadn't told him where they were going.

The campus was strangely empty, and the thief supposed everyone was still holed up in their rooms recovering from the previous evening. It stuck him how calm everything seemed without the usual swarms of students congrating on the lawn and at the picnic tables.

Carlos pulled him across the grass, smiling.

“Where are we going?” Jay couldn’t help smiling, too; the younger boy’s happiness was strangely contagious.

“To my favorite spot,” Cruella’s son replied, his hand pulling Jay less and fitting into it more. It melted perfectly into the thief’s, their fingers intertwining absentmindedly. He led them both across the law, stopping when the reached the backside of one of the science buildings. “I go when I need to get away from it all.” No one made him talk here, no one touched him here. He didn't need to be anything different for anyone. 

“It’s snowing?” Jay frowned, confused at a sudden swirl of white that had always meant a blizzard on the island.

“No… they’re petals.” Carlos smiled, reaching a hand out and letting a few settle in his palm. “Look around. The trees are blooming.”

And it was true. All around them, long branches were bowing gently under the magnificent bursts of pink and white. The blossoms weren’t even confined to the branches, and they fluttered in the gentle breeze, dotting the grass or alighting among Carlos’ curls.

“This is your favorite spot?” Jay wondered how he could know so much about this boy, but fail to ever ask him where he hung out on campus.

“After science class, during my break, I’ll come out here with Dude,” the freckled boy explained with a shy laugh. “It’s peaceful, and I don’t worry so much.”

“Is that why you keep missing our workout sessions in the weight room during free period?”  

Carlos looked sheepish. “Yeah, I didn’t really need to talk to my teacher about a test. Or help clean up the science lab.”

“Figures,” the thief shook his head and shifted from foot to foot, not quite meeting the other boy’s eyes.  “‘Los… maybe I could come help you clean up the science lab one of these days.”

“Dude, I literally just explained it to you. I’m not actually -”

“I know,” Jay looked over at him, shrugging. “But if you ever need company, I’d ditch the training with you.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Carlos was half expecting the older boy to clap him on the back and laugh. Jay never skipped tourney practice unless he was being physically restrained, and even then, he struggled.

“‘Course, why wouldn’t I be?” Jafar’s son gave him a smirk. “I’m already pressing triple what the rest of the team is, and my time might be better spent trying to get some of your nerdiness to rub off on me.”

“Hate to break it to you, asshole,” the white-haired boy laughed. “But if it hasn’t happened by now, I don’t think it ever will.”

Jay smiled, watching Carlos’ happy expression as he stared up at the petals twirling light through the air. He was aware of a strange fluttering in his stomach, and felt himself smiling absentmindedly. They spent so much time trying to coax each other out of the darkness they hardly ever got a chance to admire each other's light. 

_Damn. He’s so beautiful._

“You’re staring.” Carlos was looking at Jay carefully, trying to read him like one of his books.

“Just zoned out I guess.”

“Sure?”

When had Carlos gotten so close? Had he stepped nearer to him without realizing? The thief slowly reached out and ran his fingers through the smaller boy’s curls, elated to see the freckled cheeks matching the shade of the blossoms.

“Jay?” there was a breathlessness to Carlos’ voice, his breath hitching softly as he stared up into the older boy’s dark eyes. “What… what are you…”  

“I don’t really know, just trust me.” Jay let one of his hands stay in the white curls, the other coming to rest on the small of Carlos’ back. “You trust me, right?”

“More than anything.”

“Okay, good. Me too. Stop me if you need to.”  

When their lips met, neither of them were sure it had even really happened. For the first time in a long time, the thief’s hands were shaking. It wasn’t a long kiss, nor was it particularly smooth, but it was the fact that it had happened at all that sent the boy’s stomachs tumbling.

_Holy shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER! (I'm really not though XD XD )  
> Once again, all of your comments have moved me profoundly. You guys are my motivation and it's so rewarding to read your responses, thank you!


	28. ... There's Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the experiment begins

* * *

>   _“Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.”_
> 
> _~ Iris Murdoch_

* * *

 “I’m not in love with him!”

“I never said you were.” Mal was smirking down at her sketchbook, listening to her friend have a near-meltdown.

“You’re thinking it!” Jay was pulling at his hair, groaning loudly. He wanted the purple-haired fairy to stop looking so smug as she sat there at the picnic table.

“Love is a strong word,” was all the girl replied. “But you’re definitely crushing.”

“Am not,” the thief argued, pacing.

“Well, Jay, you did kiss him,” Evie reminded the boy, daintily picking at her lunch.

“E?” Mal glanced over at the princess, concerned. “You struggling?”

Evie shook her head, smiling thinly. “It’s getting way better. I’m eating more and not feeling so guilty about it.”

Momentarily forgetting about his own issues, Jay put a hand on the princess’ shoulder and squeezed some. “We’re right here with you, Eves. We need you.”

She smiled up at him, leaning into his hand. “And I need you, Jay.” The blue-haired girl looked pointedly at the empty place on the bench where Carlos usually sat. “So does he.”

“Okay, let me get this straight.” Mal scrunched up her face in confusion. “You kissed him… and then neither of you said anything? There was no, ‘hey, look at that, we just succumbed to the insane amount of sexual tension that’s been making our friends want to pull out their hair one fucking strand at a time and simultaneously gouge out their -’”

“Mal!” Evie scolded, narrowing her eyes. “Focus on your drawing, and let me handle the emotions.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

“He took me outside to see the cherry blossoms,” Jay recalled, biting his lip. “And then, we kissed-”

“By the way, you owe me money, E,” Mal cut in again, her pencil moving expertly across the paper.

“I know,” the princess sighed. “I was sure Carlos would be the one to tell us you two had finally gotten your act together.”

“Now everything’s weird between us, though!” Jay told them, folding his arms. “Like, did he really have to tutor Amir in the library over lunch, or is he just trying to avoid me? Last night, he acted like nothing had happened. We just… did normal shit. Didn’t talk about what happened at all.”  

“Jay,” Evie had the decency to look a little bit more sympathetic than Mal. “You do realize that he’s never felt like this before? You're asking him to be vulnerable, something neither of you do well. And you two are already so close, maybe that's why it felt normal.”

“Yeah, you two have basically been glued to each other since we went on that hellish suicide mission to find my mom’s scepter.” The fairy just couldn’t keep her mouth shut sometimes.

“I’m not in love with him,” Jay repeated, shaking his head. “There’s no way, I’m not.”

He wasn’t in love. Jay knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt, beyond the tiniest sliver. And certainly not with his best friend, of all people.

When he stared at those messy white curls on Carlos’ head, he was simply distracted by their springiness (which he swore had increased since they’d fallen into Auradon’s lap).

When he laughed at the younger boy’s jokes, it was because he genuinely found Carlos’ wit hilarious. The boy wasn’t all facts and figures, and his snarkiness wasn’t anything to sniff at.

When he found himself shielding Carlos from harm, he knew it was natural instinct. Mal and Evie protected each other, and who did he step in front of? Carlos. He was the only one left over, it made total sense.

When his cheeks heated up, Jay just fanned himself and understood that the Auradon weather was nothing like the Isle’s cold, dreary forecast that never changed. It had nothing to do with the way Carlos was laughing or the way his eyes lit up brighter than anything else in the room (or the sky, for that matter).

When he held Carlos in the middle of the night or moved their beds closer together or teased him or picked him up on the tourney field or ruffled his hair or wrestled with him on every surface he could get to…

_Oh. Shit._

He’d been thinking that a lot lately. Was it possible? Had Jay actually developed feelings for someone who wasn’t just looking for a one night thing? Feelings were dangerous; getting attached to people meant losing them in the end. Or betrayal. You never really could tell what people’s intentions were. No one was ever who they said they were or wanted what they said they wanted. And while Carlos wasn’t like everyone else, who was to say that Jay wasn’t?

“I can’t,” the thief muttered. “I’ll just hurt him, you guys know that, everyone knows that. I’ll fuck it up in some way. He’s not ready. I'm not ready.”

“That might be true, but I still think you should go talk to him,” Evie said patiently, watching him.

The dark-haired boy hardly heard her.  “I need to go for run.”

Mal watched him take off towards the locker rooms and shook her head. “Fucking moron.”

“I’m with you on this one,” the princess sighed, glancing once more at the place where Carlos usually sat. “And if he won’t talk to Carlos, I will.”

“Don’t fuck up,” was all the purple-haired girl replied.

“Who do you think I am?” Evie laughed, tossing her hair. “Jay?”

“Fix our friends and do it fast,” Mal demanded. “Or I’m gonna try and you know that won’t be pretty.”

“Of course I know that.” With one last smile flashed in the fairy’s direction, the princess took off to find the youngest member of their group.

 

**x/x**

 

“Oh, hey Evie!”  The white haired boy greeted his oldest friend with a cheerful smile. There was just something about her that made his whole heart swell up, even if they didn't hang out as often as they did back on the island.

“Hey, hun.” The princess fell into step with him, her eyebrows furrowed just slightly.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to lunch,” Carlos said, clutching a math book to his chest. “I forgot that I promised Amir I’d help him out with some of his class’ new concepts.”

“Oh, so that wasn’t just an excuse?” Evie looked both relieved and confused.

“A what?” He smiled quizzically, his nose crinkling some. “Why would-” and then his eyes got wide and he nearly dropped the books in his arms. “He told you, didn't he? Oh god, how many people did he tell? I bet the whole fucking school knows.” Carlos could already see the way people would look at him, the way they’d smirk and laugh. He was such an idiot, falling prey to another one of the thief’s stupid flirting games. Probably a dare or something, Jay never turned down a dare. He wouldn't be able to escape the eyes, they'd follow him. That couldn't happen, he needed to stay invisible-

“Carlos, Carlos, listen to me, he didn't tell anyone but Mal and I.” Evie put a steadying hand on the shaking boy’s shoulder, pulling away some when he flinched. “Jay didn't tell anyone else, I promise.”

“What else did he say?” the freckled boy asked quietly, his face pale. “Was it bad? Did he hate it? Am I going insane?”

Evie brought him into a gentle hug, her brown eyes filled with concern and something else, maybe amusement. “Oh hun, he loved it.”

That hadn’t been the answer Carlos was expecting at all. “He what? Did he… say that?”

“He didn't have to.” The princess gave him a soft smile. “It's more what he didn't say. Jay never once tried to laugh it off or discredit it… and he seemed genuinely nervous, which isn't even a word in his everyday repertoire.”

“True.” The younger boy managed to crack a smile. “Neither is humble.”

“Exactly and you know what? He didn't brag once.” Evie smiled again, looking right at him.

“Then… why didn't he talk to me about it?” Carlos’ breathing was starting to return to normal, and he focused on taking steady inhales. “He just kissed me and we walked back to the dorm in silence… and then he started going off about last weekend’s tourney game.”

“He's scared, obviously,” the princess laughed softly, the same pleasant sound that had gotten everyone’s attention back on the island and still warmed Carlos inside and out. “And being Jay, he won't admit it.”

“‘Cause I’m not a girl?”

“‘Cause you're Carlos de Vi,  and he cares about you more than anything else in the world. Honestly, have you really not noticed how much that idiot likes you?”

“Well…” the white-haired boy chewed his lip. “He did offer to ditch tourney training to hang with me.”

This elicited a squeal from the blue-haired girl, and she bounced on the balls of her feet. “See? Oh, Carlos, he’s so fucked for you! Don't you get it? We have to fix this between you two!”

“You're gonna tell me to talk to him, aren't you?” The freckled boy adjusted his grip on his books.

“I mean,” the blue-haired girl gave him a sly smile. “It's up to you, of course. But, yeah, I think that would solve some of your problems. You like him, right?”

“Yes.” It wasn't even worth hiding at this point. Admitting it out loud brought the trembling back to his hands, though, and he half expected someone to jump him.

But Evie’s eyes only twinkled. “And you enjoy his company? And his kisses?”

“Only ever had one kiss,” Carlos admits, shrugging. “But it was good. I think. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to feel like, but it felt right.”

“Just you wait,” the princess smirks. “It’ll get better once you both stop being so thick-headed.”

“Slow down.” Carlos could feel how warm his cheeks were and suddenly, he couldn't seem to meet Evie’s eyes. “We’re not there yet.”

“I know,” she laughed. “But you will be someday.”

So Carlos had a new mission. And while he liked having goals, this one made him want to hide under his bed and never come out ever again.

As he walked back to the dorm, the freckled boy discovered a new thing to chant under his breath in addition to the elements of the periodic table.

_Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron…_

 

_Please don't let this ruin us. Please._

 

_Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine…_

 

_Please. This can’t ruin us._

 

_Neon, Sodium, Magnesium…_

 

_Please…_

 

**x/x**

 

 _“_ So-”

“Yeah -”

“The girls -”

“Yeah, they told me…”

“And now…”

Jay and Carlos sat facing each other, backs straight, fists clenched, cheeks burning.

_He doesn't want you. Look in his eyes._

The younger boy cringed, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head. Insecurity, it wasn't her, it was just his insecurity. Jay had told him that, he'd meant it, he’d believed him.

_Oh, darling, you don't deserve -_

“Shut the fuck up!!!” Carlos cried suddenly, covering his ears. “I don't care! I don't care! I might not deserve him, but I don't care!!”

“‘Los,” the familiar voice was followed by a familiar hand on his shoulder. The younger boy thought Jay would try to calm him down, but when he looked up at the dark-haired son of Jafar, his face was set in a grim line of determination. “You tell her.”

“I'm tired of you in my head!” Carlos raised his voice, bringing his fist down on the bed. “I'm tired of you telling me I'm not good enough!!!”

“Good, really stick it to her,” Jay encouraged, his hand still on the other boy’s shoulder.

“I fucking hate you! And I swear, someday, you'll get exactly what's coming for you!! I HATE YOU. I DESERVED A GOOD MOTHER. I DESERVED SOMEONE WHO LOVES ME. YOU DIDN'T, AND YOU NEVER WILL, SO IF YOU THINK, FOR A MOMENT, THAT YOU CAN TELL ME WHAT TO DO NOW, YOU’RE FUCKING WRONG! YOU GAVE ME LIFE, BUT YOU CANNOT TAKE IT AWAY!”

When Carlos’ shouts finally faded away, he was left breathing heavily, his fists still hard, tears rolling down his cheeks without him ever giving them permission to do so.

“Feel better?”

The white curls bobbed some, letting Jay know the younger boy had nodded slightly. He only looked up when he felt a soft kiss being planted on his forehead. “Wha… you did it again….”

“I know,” Jay gave him another tentative smile. “I usually don't kiss people on accident.” He took a moment to gather his thoughts. The thief didn’t know how to explain that commitment scared him more than just about anything else. Being tied down, unable to get away, and now, afraid of hurting the boy he might like more than any other. “Listen to me, Car, if anyone doesn't deserve someone, it's me.”

“Are you joking?” Carlos laughed a little in spite of himself. “You? Everyone’s favorite? The ripped, tall tourney player? The school’s biggest heartthrob?”

“Well, you said it, not me,” the thief joked, trying not to show just how terrified he was.

“Shut up, you dick.” The smaller boy punched him gently, but Jay thought he saw a similar flash of terror inside his eyes. “We've sufficiently covered that neither of us deserve each other. Which, obviously, in the laws of the universe, would cancel out, which means…”

“We both fucking deserve each other.” Jay chuckled, shaking his head. Maybe they were both insane. Maybe this would never work. But he _wanted_ it to. For the first time in his life, he wanted to do better. To be better. If not for himself, than for the boy sitting across from him. “We can try this, okay? Like one of your experiments, see if it works.” Experiment sounded better out loud, more room for mistakes. “You just have one last thing to say before you get the guy.”

“And what’s that?” Carlos tilted his head, his teeth catching on his bottom lip some.

“Those five words, remember?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Say it,” the thief ordered with a grin.

“I am not saying that to you.”

“You know you want to.”

“I'm _not_ saying them.”

As the boys got ready for bed, they each tried their hardest to pretend they didn't notice the exhilterated smiles and flushed cheeks of the other. And when they lay beside each other in darkness that night, Carlos opened his eyes halfway to admire Jay’s sleeping form. He liked the way his dark hair spilled out over the pillow, the way the blue light from the window fell across his face, how his chest rose and fell steadily. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Then, very carefully, he pushed back the thief’s hair and whispered something something softly in his ear.

“ _You are so fucking hot._ ”

And he wasn't sure, but he thought Jay might’ve smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, you guys keep blowing my mind with your comments. How is it that you're all so supportive and sweet and encouraging? I owe you all a bigger thank you than I will ever be able to express through words!


	29. Every Second Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos deserves to be celebrated and Jay fixes the shadows on his face with a surprise

> _“So much of life is in the smallness of moments...but they are harder to mark._
> 
> _So we need the grander celebrations and occasions._
> 
> _People like to feel significant”_
> 
> _~ Ally Condie_

* * *

 “Happy birthday, Lonnie!”   

Carlos’ head turned quickly, recognizing the voice as Jane’s. His face felt hot as he realized they hadn't talked since Cotillion, and he had no idea where their relationship stood. The white-haired boy couldn't remember exactly what had been said that afternoon he'd asked her out, but he vaguely remembered something about being her boyfriend.

_Crap, crap, crap._

“Hey Jane…” The freckled boy’s voice ended a whole octave higher than it had started.

She seemed to just now notice him (or at least, she’d finally stopped pretending not to). “Oh, hey, Carlos. Uh… can we talk?”

“Sure.”

He got up from the lunch table, walking a little farther away so no one would overhear. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the way Jay’s jaw set and how Evie reached out to keep him from following.

“Chill, protective,” Carlos heard her chastise with a small shake of her head. “He’s not stupid.”

“So…” Jane was rocking back and forth, her hands twitching nervously as they twisted the corner of her periwinkle dress. “I…  look… I really like you -”

The freckled boy sucked in a breath, a sinking feel growing in his stomach. He wasn’t good at saying no, he didn’t like disappointing people more than he already did. “Yeah, um -”

“But here’s the thing.” The fairy was talking faster now, her words tumbling over each other in a rush to make it out first. “My mom was talking to me after the Cotillion, you know, after everything, and um, I… I really hate to do this. I promise, it’s not you. Or my mom. It’s no one’s fault, I really didn’t think this through I suppose, and now that everything’s happened… she thinks I’m too young to date. It’s not that you’re a villain! ‘Cause you’re not, I know that you chose our side, but… yeah…”

Carlos’ head hurt some as he tried to catch everything she was saying. Their side? He hadn’t picked a side, he’d picked between life and death. There hadn’t been a choice to make. But he forced himself to smile and nod, to pretend like she was right. “Woah, woah, Jane, slow down. Do you want to just… be friends?”

Jane’s shoulders relaxed greatly, and she sighed with relief. “Would that be so bad? I’m sorry if I disappoint you, I never mean to hurt anyone, and somehow still do.”

The words sounded oddly familiar, and for the first time, Carlos wondered whether the reason he’d been so drawn to her dealt not with attraction, but recognition. He saw himself in the fairy’s nervous twitches, the way she squealed softly when startled, her expectation of disappointing those she cared about. He wondered if she was what he would’ve been like if he’d been raised on the mainland instead of the island. A little strange, but functional. No scars, no voices, no patterns to follow.

“Carlos?” Jane sounded unsure of herself, and Cruella’s son realized he must’ve scared her with his blank gaze.

“I’d like to still be friends with you. A lot.” It was the best he could offer her.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Maybe friend was too strong a word for now. Just friend _ly._ If a smile in the hallway would make this girl happy, so be it.

“Um… can I hug you?" She was still rocking back and forth. "Or is that weird?”

It was. The first time she’d hugged him, it had caught him by surprise and he’d flinched rather obviously; sudden movements still sent his heart rate skyrocketing. But the freckled boy didn't really have the energy to explain all that, so he simply smiled politely. “Not weird. Friends hug all the time… at least I think so. Haven’t had much experience.”

But even as the words left his tongue, he knew that wasn’t solely the truth anymore. He had a whole table waiting for him back there that would give him gentle hugs anytime he needed them. So he suffered through Jane’s awkward embrace and returned to where he felt safe, to the group where he could mostly predict the behaviour of everyone around him.

“How was that?” Evie asked, examining his face. She could always tell when one of them was battling inside.

“She asked to be just friends,” he explained, smiling a real smile when he saw Jay’s relieved expression over the princess’ shoulder. “Geez, dude, settle down, I wasn’t gonna ditch you or anything.”

“I know that,” Jay quickly shot him a cocksure grin, topping it off with a wink. “No one in their right mind would.”

“Shut up.” Carlos slid onto the bench next to him and hooking his ankle around the older boy’s under the table for an extra level of comfort. “Hey, where’d you get cake?”

The thief looked down at the plate in front of him, then gestured to a group of other kids surrounding another table. “It’s our R.O.A.R. captain’s birthday, ‘Los. Don’t tell me you forgot…”

Birthdays. They were considered rather unfortunate events back home. The day someone was shackled with something as irreversible as a living, screaming child. It was either an accident or a planned heir, but as the people on the island quickly realized, babies weren’t exactly ready made heirs to a throne of darkness.

“Speaking of Lonnie?” Mal raised an eyebrow, giving Jay a meaningful glance. “Have you talked to her about your feelings for Spotty here?”

“First of all,” Jay made a face. “I hate the word _feelings._ I just happen to like him more than I like you, Mal.”

“Fine by me, fuck face,” she replied, unperturbed. “So why did you take her as your Cotillion date?”

“She wasn’t my date, not officially,” the thief argued. “Trust me, Lonnie is swings more towards girls. I don’t know what impression you got, but I’m pretty sure she has no illusions of dating me.”

“That’s a first,” Carlos snorted. “Everyone in this fucking school wants to date you.”

“Including you?” the dark-haired boy smiled craftily.

“Yes.”

“Well, then that’s all I care about.” Jay went back to his cake, trying to shield it from Cruella’s son, who kept stealing licks of frosting. “Get your hands out of my cake! Get your own!”

As if right on cue, some of the kids from Lonnie’s table migrated over to them. The effect was instantaneous. Mal sat a little straighter, never pausing in her movements, but her presence was certainly made known. Jay’s eyes carefully skimmed wrists and collarbones, his fingers already twisting in expectation. Evie, although she was getting better, couldn’t help batting her eyelashes at some of the guys, stopping herself suddenly when she realized what she was doing. And Carlos simply made himself invisible. Quiet. Still. Calculating.

Some of the other kids in Auradon had noticed the barriers that flew up when they walked in a room. Occasionally, they’d catch a glimpse of the four villain kids by themselves, laughing. Normal, they’d think. Oh how the Isle kids hated that word. It confused them. What was normal?

“So, guys, what’s going on?” Lonnie plowed right through the frigid silence. “Anyone want more cake? I’ve got a lot left over.”

Evie was the first to respond, shaking herself, giving Lonnie a graceful smile. Ever the diplomat, she was. “No, thank you.”

She always refused second helpings. Sometimes she struggled to finish her first, in which case Mal would sit and talk to her about a hundred different things until she’d eaten at least half.

“Jay, Carlos, what about you guys?” Lonnie asked with a laugh. “You two never turn down food.”

Did she know? Did she understand why? Calories weren’t guaranteed. Food wasn’t always so easy to come by. But of course, how would the poor girl ever pick up on any of that? To her, it was nothing more than a treat meant to celebrate and delight.

So, the boys each took large second helpings, cleaning their plates.

“It’s your birthday, huh?” Evie asked delicately, her eyebrows knitted together.

“Yes.” The dark-haired girl smiled happily, shrugging her shoulders with apparent glee. “Seventeen today, imagine that!”

So Jay was older than she was. He’d turned seventeen about a month ago, letting the day slide past without a word. And too, he didn’t actually know the exact date. Just the week his father seemed to hate him most.

By the time Lonnie had disappeared again (something about a birthday dinner with her family), the Isle kids were eyeing each other uncomfortably.

“I didn’t know they celebrated birthdays like this,” Mal glanced at the empty cake plates. “With food and singing and shit.”

“Singing?” Carlos cocked his head, frowning. “What kind of singing?”

“Over there, didn’t you hear them?” the purple haired fairy nodded to the table Mulan’s girl and her friends had just vacated. “They sang a song to her and lit the cake on fire with tiny wax sticks.”

“Candles?” Carlos knew what those were. When the power went out on the island (as it so often did), they were the only things that gave light until he’d learned how to build and power flashlights.

“No, no.” Mal was frowning. “They were too thin and colorful. Not useful at all: they burned halfway down by the end of the song.”

“Maybe that’s what candles look like here,” Jay offered with a shrug. After all, everything else was different here, why shouldn’t this be?”

“Didn’t your parents at least acknowledge your birthday?” Surprisingly enough, it was Evie who asked the question. “I mean, it wasn’t any _Auradon_ celebration, but Mom always gave me an extra special makeover… which really wasn’t different than any other day, but sometimes it felt like it.”

“Sure, Pops acknowledged it,” the thief told her, smiling wryly. “With a shove out the door and a particularly critical eye towards my scores. And it lasted the whole week, too. He never told me the real date.”

“Ah, if that doesn't sound familiar,” Mal nodded, giving the thief a small shrug. She didn't seem to want to talk about it anymore.

“What about you, Carlos?” Evie asked softly, her eyes looking him up and down.

Carlos had gone very still, his breathing irregular, staring blankly at a spot right in front of him. Jay knew this look. It reminded him of Old Carlos, of Isle Carlos. The quiet, strange, blank-stare boy who used to never talk much, but could fix anything anyone gave him for a price.

“I just remembered,” the thief said quickly, standing up. “‘Los and I promised Coach we’d help test the cannons on the tourney field.”

He hated the way the younger boy flinched when Jay’s hand grazed his shoulder. The way Carlos couldn't seem to hear him. The way he trembled ever so slightly - not enough to be seen by anyone who wasn't looking close enough. But he knew why it happened, at least. He led the smaller teen away from the table and only asked his question when everyone else was out of earshot.

“That bitch didn't ever tell you your birthday, did she?”

Carlos still didn't say anything, keeping his mouth sealed right. Jay was right, of course, but if he didn't respond, maybe the older teen would lose interest and move away. He should've known the thief was much too stubborn to give up so easily, and not only did Jay step closer, but his fists clenched as well.

Out of pure instinct, the freckled boy ducked, his fists flying up to protect his face. He had to make himself smaller, curl in, this was it. He'd finally hit his limit with the older boy. You spoke when spoken to, he knew that, how many times had his mother drilled that into him? But the blow he was expecting never came, and when Carlos dared to flick his gaze up, he saw something that wasn't quite fury in Jay’s dark eyes. Maybe guilt. Or sadness.

The thief’s mouth opened, probably only to clear his throat, but the smaller boy didn't want to take any chances. His feet started moving and he took off towards the dorms, running faster and faster, pushing himself until his lungs burned. Anything to leave Cruella behind.

 

**x/x**

 

“Jay, we talked about healthy habits.” Fairy Godmother caught him before he could leave the dining hall. “Growing boys need lots of colorful food.”

He knew that now; it was one of the things the headmistress stressed the most during their Remedial Goodness sessions (which Jay privately referred to as Remedial Auradon. He and his friends weren’t broken, they didn’t need fixing, just acclimating to these new sets of rules). Fairy Godmother and the rest of the people in charge here simply liked to believe they’d done a heroic deed in rescuing them, nevermind that they had been the ones to turn a blind eye towards the newest generation emerging on the island until the crown had all but shifted heads. And while the remediation class was tedious, and frankly insulting at times, the villain kids had to admit that was fun to make Fairy Godmother flustered (which wasn’t difficult at all).

“But this is colorful food,” the thief protested with faux innocence. “Look at all the colors in this bowl.”

“Those are sprinkles, dearest.” The Headmistress’ expression morphed into the pitying look the Isle kids knew quite well. The one that said, oh these poor children. So incapable. So dependant on us to show them right from wrong. “Sprinkles are pure sugar. They cannot replace vital fruits and veggies, do you understand?”

“I do now.” He gave her a winning smile with all the charm and virtue he could summon up, hiding a smirk. During the course of her explanation, he’d managed to slide a whole bottle of fudge into his pocket. “I’ll do better tomorrow, FG. I promise.”

He wasn’t going to keep that one, of course. Promises to Carlos were one thing, but to her? He didn’t owe the Headmistress anything except maybe a hello in the morning if he was feeling friendly. Which meant Jay didn’t have to tell her what he was doing with the ice cream or who it was for or why. She didn’t need to know that Carlos had never learned his birthday. And she certainly wouldn’t know that ice cream with fudge was something the younger boy had been dying to try.

And yes, Jay conceded that Fairy Godmother had good intentions, but in the overall scheme of things, those meant less than nothing. After all, that’s what he heard paved the road to hell. And since he’d already survived most of his life there, the saying might as well have placed the destination as the Isle because more he thought about it, the harder it was to come up with a difference between the two.

 

**x/x**

 

“‘Los, I’m back.” Jay set the lunch tray down on the table, glancing around the room. His eyes scanned every corner, looking for the slightest movement that might indicate where the smaller boy was hiding.

A  moment or two later, he heard a quiet clicking coming from under the bed. Sure enough, when he knelt down, the thief saw Carlos pressed against the back wall counting the items in his pencil pack. Pens in one pile, pencils in the other. Rearranging them, piling them, examining them, but through it all he never stopped counting, his lips always moving ever so slightly. Order, Jay knew. He was seeking order and patterns and formation.

“You don’t have to come out, okay?” The thief knew it would be pointless to try and force the younger boy to do anything when he was like this. “I just wanted to let you know that I brought you something when you’re ready.”

Carlos paused in his counting for half a second, appraising Jay with a silent watchfulness. And then he resumed his task, as if the whole interaction had never occured. Right now, the younger boy needed his space.

So, the thief relocated to the couch, picking up a controller and busying himself with a game he’d been meaning to play for awhile. Jay had gotten through several levels of the game when he finally heard soft thumps behind him that meant the smaller teen had finally wriggled out

“No. I don’t know my birthday.”

It was an answer to the question Jay had asked hours earlier, and slowly, he paused the game, turning to Carlos who’d come to sit down next to him.

“I brought you ice cream. It’s a little melted now, but it should still taste good. And look, fudge.” The dark-haired teen brought the bottle out and handed it to the younger boy, along with the bowl. “Remember when you said you wanted to try some?”

Carlos' smile was watery, but it was still a smile. “Thank you.” It was soft, gentle, but steadier than before.

It was only after Carlos had taken a few bites, his eyes brightening again as the fudge and ice cream mixed delightfully on his tongue, that Jay dared to bring up the topic still unresolved between them.

“So, your mom was even more of a bitch than we thought, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

The thief watched him for a moment, sighing. “Do you think she even knew the date herself?”

“No.” Carlos didn’t see the point in lying. “I was seven when I realized what fucking meant and that babies were born that way. That was also when Cruella started saying things like ‘your sorry ass is the worst fucking part of these past nine years’, so… I just kinda kept track after that. I’d add a little tally on the wall in my room whenever she changed the number.”

“I heard Pops talking about you one time.” Jay’s voice was low. “He said something like ‘that the batshit devil was knocked up after all’. Apparently, your mother just showed up in the marketplace with you one day. I was about eight, so… you must’ve been -”

“Six.” Carlos had finished the ice cream and was now just eating fudge straight out of the bottle, squeezing little bits onto the spoon and licking them off. “I like this stuff. It’s liquid chocolate.”

The gears in the thief’s mind were already turning. He hated the shadows on Carlos’ face, they blocked out the sunshine that he knew could shine through when it wanted to.

_Just you wait, Carlos de Vil. I will fix this._

 

**x/x**

 

Apparently, people in Auradon didn’t usually cry over presents.

But how could Carlos have known that? He didn’t know that Jay was going to stop him coming out of class and bring him around to his favorite spot under the cherry trees. Or that he would hand him a small box wrapped (painstakingly) in black and white paper.

The freckled boy’s hands shook as he untied the red bow, carefully removing the wrapping. “Jay… what… I don’t…”

“Just open it, it’s okay.” The older boy was pacing some, running his hands through his hair like he always did when he was stressed out.

Inside the box, Carlos found a watch, shiny and brand new, with the plastic still covering the face. “Jay! Which rich kid did you have to swipe this from?” The white-haired boy stared in awe at the thing.

“Um, no one, actually.” A tiny smile was threatening to emerge at the corners of Jay’s lips. “I… bought it. For you.”

“You… bought something?”

“If you don’t believe me, turn it over. I had it engraved.”

“To Carlos: when I’m with you, every second matters. I will never take them for granted. With love…. Jay.” The last few words came out barely above a whisper as his throat got uncomfortably tight, his eyes stinging. Maybe he was allergic to these blossoms after all.

“I know it’s cringey as fuck, I couldn’t think of anything else to get you, honestly. I thought, a bracelet at first, but it’s not useful. And then I figured, maybe tools, but you have a ton already and I don’t know what you would want or what type. So I settled on this. Happy birthday, ‘Los.”

Carlos looked up at him, blinking in confusion. “But… it’s not my birthday.”

“It could be.” The thief gave him a shrug. “Who’s to say it’s not.”

“Jay…” the younger boy rubbed his eyes some, sniffing as he strapped the new watch on. “Wh… why? Why did you do this??”

“Because someone like you deserves a day to feel celebrated.”

Arms came up and around his neck and Jay realized Carlos was hugging him. The freckled teen’s voice was choked with emotion, but he managed to get something out. “I always… feel celebrated… around you.”

The dark-haired boy suddenly developed allergies of his own. He held Carlos close, feeling the other teen’s heart pounding so hard it was a miracle it didn’t just fall out of his chest.

“I brought cupcakes, too.” Jay gestured to the picnic table where, yes, there was a box waiting for them. “I did swipe those from the cafeteria. I don’t think that counts as stealing necessarily…”

“Baby steps,” Carlos laughed, his voice still full of tears. But good tears. Happy tears. The kind that left eyes sparkling, not departed. “You'd better sing to me. Mal says they sing for birthdays here.”

“I don't know the right song,” Jay protested.

“Any song, I don't care.” Carefully, the smaller boy cupped Jay’s face and stared at him for a moment, as if gathering up his courage, before leaning in.

Same place.

Same lips.

Same feeling.

The kind that swept through his stomach and raced up and down his whole body, warming his cheeks and chest. The addicting kind, the invigorating kind. And this time, it took them both a little longer to let each other go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit longer than usual, and slightly darker, but I hope you enjoyed! As I say every time (and I really do mean it), your comments have me smiling like an idiot, so thank you.  
> You guys are truly special.


	30. The Sky is Crying (Happy Tears, Darling)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a rainy day turns out to be not so bad after all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to Dove Cameron! She won an Emmy last night, and I couldn't be more proud!

_“Friends might share clothes and chocolate, but they must share books._

_Just like you share the same stars, share the same books and you'll never be apart.”_

_~ Toni Sorenson_

* * *

 The rainiest day in Auradon would’ve been the most peaceful day on the island. Instead of violent, driving needles trying to pass off as raindrops, Auradon’s sky let gentle drizzles replenish the vibrant colors belonging to the trees and the grass.

“‘Los, what are you doing?”

Carlos had his hands pressed against the window, staring intently at the rivulets of clear water running down the glass. “Even the rain here is pretty.”

“It's just rain,” Jay grumbled. The tourney team had canceled practice for the morning because of it, and now he was in a foul mood. A little rain never hurt anyone. Why on earth had _water,_ of all things, been enough to drive everyone inside? It wasn't even polluted like the stuff on the island.

“Look how clear it is.” Carlos wasn't bothered by Jay’s attitude: he knew how much the thief despised it when practice was called off (even though he himself celebrated quietly). “You can see right through it. No smog drops.”

“It's just _rain,”_ the older boy repeated emphatically. “It never stopped raining on the Isle! Are these guys afraid we’re gonna melt or something? It’s only water.”

“Maybe.” The freckled boy watched two droplets merge and finish the race as one stream. “Or maybe they just don't like getting wet.” Getting up from his perch at the window, Carlos grabbed a book and climbed up next to Jay on the bed, flipping it open.

“Whatcha reading?” The thief seemed to be torn between continuing his complaining and succumbing to curiosity.

Smiling, Cruella’s son didn't look up from his book. “Something.”

Jay tilted his head, trying to read the cover over the smaller shoulder. “A…. Wrinkle…. in… Time… what's that?”

“A book.” Carlos grinned inwardly. He knew how much Jay hated being given the bare minimum when it came to affection.

“Jackass,” the thief grumbled, poking the other boy’s sides. “Pay attention to me. It's a book, it can’t talk.”

“Hmmm?”

“Carlos!”

The latter wasn't even reading anymore, just biting his lip to keep from smiling too much, enjoying the older teen’s reaction.

“Fine, ignore me.” He felt Jay turn away and knew it was killing him. Counting silently in his head, he waited for the dark-haired boy to crack. “Fucking hell, Carlos de Vil!!!!! Look at me!”

Carlos giggled, finally rolling over to look up at Jafar’s son. “Hey, there cutie.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Jay grinned, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

When Jay started tickling him, Carlos knew he deserved it, but that didn't stop him from writhing and screaming until his ribs ached.

“S-stop!! You - absolute - JERK!” he squealed, rolling around on the bed.

“What is this book, anyway?” Jay laughed with mock fury, flipping through the pages. “What makes it so much more interesting than me?”

“Everything -” Carlos got out before he was tickled all over again. “It's - about - time travel - JAY, I SURRENDER! I GIVE UP!”

The thief immediately backed off, but kept his hands hovering threateningly. “Admit I'm more interesting than a book.”

“You're more interesting than a book,” Carlos echoed, rolling his eyes. “There? Do you feel better? You know, if you would stop being such an attention-craving ass, I’d read it to you.”

Lifting one eyebrow, Jay handed the book back. “Well, I’m not being one now, so...” He tried hard not to look too hopeful, but the little smirk on Carlos’ lips told him he hadn't succeeded.

“Why? Do you want me read aloud?”

“I wouldn't be opposed to it.”

Carlos smiled, crawling closer to Jay and opening up the book. “It was a dark and stormy night…”

“Like right now?” Jay gestured outside. “Not that this is a storm… or dark… or night…”

“Don't interrupt,” the freckled boy reprimanded, pretending be angry. “I'm starting back at the beginning of the book for you, the least you can do is be polite.” When he was pleased with the silence, Carlos read the first sentence again.

Pretty soon, Jay was too mesmerized to interject anymore. Carlos’ voice was smooth and comforting, his inflections molding perfectly to the words. The younger boy laughed softly in some places, smiling in others, just as if he was reading the chapter for the first time. More importantly, the story was actually interesting, more so than Jay had expected.

As the chapters and hours slid by, the thief’s leg was eventually draped lazily across Carlos’ hip, his arm around the freckled boy’s waist and pulling him in close. Jay would’ve been able to look over Carlos’ shoulder and read along, but he preferred to close his eyes and just listen to the other boy paint the picture.

“We missed lunch.”

Jay’s eyes opened a while later when he realized that line wasn’t apart of the story. “That’s not like us at all, is it?”

“Wanna go down now?” Carlos asked, glancing back over his shoulder at the thief. “We might be able to catch the tail end of things.”

Not that Jay wasn’t starving, but at that moment, with the rain still pattering soothingly outside and the smaller boy cuddled so comfortably in his arms, he just didn’t want to move. “Pizza?”

Carlos’ laughter filled the room, and Jay’s heart fluttered a bit. “If you order it, I’ll keep reading.”

“My phone is all the way over there,” the dark-haired boy groaned, reaching in the direction of his bed.

“Use mine.” Digging it out of his pocket, Carlos handed his phone to the other boy over his shoulder. “You’re mistaken if you think you’re going anywhere.”

Jay laughed, keeping his arm and leg securely around him.  “Thought so.”

 

**x/x**

 

It was only after the pizza and another chapter that the older teen finally started to get restless. His leg bounced some and he had trouble focusing on what Carlos was saying. Finally, the freckled boy looked up, aware of Jay’s sudden need to _do something_. “Wanna go outside for a bit?”

“It’s still raining.”

Carlos sat up, folding his arms. “I thought you said it was ‘only water’.”

“Okay, smartass,” Jay laughed, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Even the smell of rain was different here. They both took several large gulps of the humid air, trying to figure out how to describe it.

“Do you smell that?” Carlos’ smile was undeniably content.

“It smells fresh.” Jafar’s son took another breath, feeling the cool droplets run down his arms. Some of them even landed in the younger teen’s hair, making it look like he was wearing a crown of dew.

“Wanna know why it smells like this?” Carlos didn’t wait for an answer, continuing with bright eyes. “It’s airborne oils from plants, bacterial spores and ozone and stuff like that.”

“You’re really smart, do you know that?” Jay smiled, something a lot like pride settling in his chest.

The younger teen didn’t reply, but the redness in his cheeks and the way he tried to hide his smile told the thief everything he needed to know. “Race you to that tree,” he laughed, taking off, his feet kicking up wet droplets as he ran.

“You little fucker!” Jay started sprinting too, even though he knew he’d never be able to make up the time lost. Carlos was _fast,_ and even without the headstart, it would’ve been tough to beat him.

By the time they both reached the tree, they were out of breath and laughing. Jay shook his head violently, spraying them both with water droplets.

“You know,” Carlos watched him thoughtfully, wiping the water from his eyes. “In all those romantic movies Evie showed me last weekend… there was a lot of kissing in the rain.”

“Good thing we’re not like those disgusting Auradon couples, huh?” The thief made a face, pretending to be disgusted with the notion.

“Yeah, totally.”

There was a beat, and then -

“We’re gonna kiss, though, right?”

“Yeah, come here.”

This time around, Carlos jumped up and wrapped him his legs around Jay’s waist, laughing into the kiss. The rain made it hard to see, and it was rather sloppy compared to their two previous ones, but that didn’t stop both boys from mentally adding it to their tally with a sort of reverence.

 _Three times,_ the freckled boy thought. _I’ve kissed Jay three times. And he’s kissed me three, plus one on the forehead._

 

**x/x**

 

“Even my underwear was soaked,” Jay commented as sat down on their coach. Only his hair was still wet, lying across his shoulders and leaving wet spots on his dry shirt.

“Gee, I was just wondering that,” Carlos said sarcastically, cuddling against him. “How would I have been able to go one without that crucial information?”

“No need to be a dick,” the thief said, his words having no effect on the affectionate arm he put over Carlos’ shoulders .

The freckled teen also noticed, with a small grin, that the humidity had left the tiny hairs closest to Jay’s face in small ringlets. “Aww, now we both have curls,” he laughed, pulling one gently and watching it spring back. “Your baby hairs are all humidified.”

“Does that mean I look more like you?” the dark-haired boy chuckled, turning on the tv and flipping through channels.

“Why would you ever wanna look like me?” Carlos held out his pockmarked arms as proof. “I’m speckled and scarred and -”

“Hey, hey, don’t you be trashing your freckles,” Jay cut him off with a quick shake of his head. “I love those things.”

“Mother hated them.” Carlos remembered the way she’d pick at his skin, as if they might come off. “She thought the people in Auradon had done it on purpose, to taunt her. Given her a child that looked like the puppies she’d lost. She’d spend hours going off about how unfortunate it was that you couldn’t wear humans after you skinned them… and I knew she was talking about me. But she’s gotten worse, you know. Forgetting whole days. My name. Who I am. Maybe now she’s figured out how to wear flesh.”

“Shit.” Jay let that sink in for a moment, then turned to the other boy fiercely. “Well, these freckles aren’t hers,” Jay told him fiercely. “They’re mine and yours, and I wouldn’t erase them for all the money in the world.”

Carlos’ breath caught in his throat some. He’d never heard Jay say that. Money and gold and riches had always been his number one priority, and whether it was self-driven or Jafar’s doing, he wasn’t sure. “Really? Even for a million gold coins?”

“That’s just money,” the dark-haired boy muttered bitterly. “Ruined my dad’s life, and continues to do so today. Right now, he’s probably counting those motherfucking coins without a second thought about me. Where I am. If I’m eating. Whether I’m even alive. So yeah, ‘Los, I’d rather have your freckles stay where they belong.”

The white-haired teen’s only response was to bury his head in the other boy’s side, hiding his face as if that would fool either of them that he wasn’t blushing redder than his t-shirt. Jay just smiled, stroking his hair, the low murmuring of the TV joining the sounds of the rain. After awhile, Dude got tired of Carlos getting all the attention and invited himself up on the couch, lying across both boys’ laps with half his body on each.

“Hey bud,” Jay said with a smile, using one of his hands to pet the newcomer.

“Are you giving Dude pets too?” came Carlos’ muffled voice, his face still hidden in Jay’s shirt.

“Of course I am. He’s a good boy.”

Dude’s tail thumped and Jay figured that if Cruella’s son had been able to, he would’ve been doing it right alongside the dog. Jafar’s son sighed happily, resting back into the couch pillows. “My boys.”

And when Dude panted happily and Carlos pressed his face harder into his side, Jay smiled.

_My boys._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running out of different ways to say that my readers are amazing!!!! You guys are incredible, thank you for your support!  
> More coming soon!! :) :)


	31. Stitches Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys are separated for the first time since arriving in Auradon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! This is the first of a two-part chapter! It centers around a rather big event (compared to the other everyday lifestyle chapters), but I hope that you all will enjoy it just as much.

> _ “Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word”  _
> 
> _ ~ George R. R. Martin _

* * *

 

“What are you packing?” Carlos was watching Jay shove stuff into his carpet bag.

“Clothes,” the thief replied unhelpfully. 

“Anything else?” 

“I don't know, I don't have much else.” 

Carlos had already packed his own clothes into the same trash bag he’d used to carry his things coming to Auradon, and now, he surveyed it critically. If only he had something a little classier to transport his stuff. Evie had almost doubled the size of his wardrobe since they'd arrived, but it still fit rather pitifully inside the large black plastic bag, especially when compared to the royal kids who never needed to repeat an outfit. 

“Dammit,” Jay swore, examining one of his vests. “I gotta tell Eves that this ripped.”

“I don't think this is gonna do what Ben is hoping it will.” Carlos sat down on the bed, swinging his legs some, his lip caught between his teeth. 

“Ha.” The thief’s laugh was humorless. “What makes you say that? The absolute utter irony of it all?” 

“That's a big word,” the freckled boy teased, momentarily distracted from their situation. “Sure you know what it means?”

“Fuck off.” The dark-haired teen managed a laugh. “I'm serious. When we were first chosen or whatever, to come here and leave that shithole behind, Ben didn't choose any of Gaston’s sons. Why? There were plenty of them to pick from, right? But all his life, his parents told him horror stories about that misogynistic predator, so he didn't even consider them. It's one thing to accept villain kids, it's another to accept  _ your parent’s aggressor's  _ kid.” 

“Actually, I think you’re right.” Carlos had never looked at it like that before. 

“‘Course I am.” Jay finished shoving the rest of his stuff into the bag. “I mean, do you really think Aladdin’s gonna open up his door and smile widely because the dude who tried to kill him and make his wife a sex slave had a son who decided to show up?” 

“Well, you didn't decide,” the white-haired boy pointed out. “We’re being forced.” 

There was a long silence. “I respect Ben,” Jay said finally, pulling off his beanie. “But sometimes, you can't fix these things. Some feuds are just irreparable.” 

“I'm gonna miss you, know you.” Carlos slid off the bed so he could wrap his arms around the thief’s neck. 

“Me too, ‘Los. Me too.” He held the smaller boy close, thinking. “But it's only two days. Ben wasn't a total moron, at least. Apparently he shot down the idea of staying a week.”

Still. Separating from the pack was dangerous. It made people vulnerable. The Isle kids knew that better than anyone, and now that they had their group, it was horrifying to think about all four of them going separate directions, no matter how short the duration. 

“That's one night we have to get through.” Cruella’s son continued chewing his lip, his thoughts obviously following along the same lines.

“Look,” the rogue sighed. “I know you don't like sleeping alone, believe me, it's not my first choice either. Do you think you can handle it? You've been doing better lately.”  Neither of them added that it was because they’d started sleeping in the same bed at the start of the night instead of switching halfway. 

“Yeah. It’s going to be fine,” Carlos gave him a shaky smile. “Don't worry about me.” 

“But I am.” Jay didn’t mean to say it, it just fell out. He didn’t want this boy going off by himself, where he couldn’t protect him. Not that Carlos couldn't protect himself because damn, that boy could kill if he needed to. “Uh… um… that came out… I just meant -”

“It’s okay.” Carlos looked up at him, something like gratefulness flickering in his eyes. “Thank you. I’m worried about you, too.” 

The thief stared back at him, then stood up suddenly. “Here, take this.” He rummaged around in his bag, pulling out his beanie. The younger boy was surprised to say the least. “Jay…”

“Come on, it looks good on you anyway.” 

So Carlos blushed terribly and let Jay arrange the hat gently on top of his curls. When the dark-haired boy swooped down to press a kiss to his cheek, Cruella’s son was pretty sure he rivaled the hat in hue. 

“Alright, ready?” Jay asked, holding out his hand just in case Carlos wanted to hold it. 

He did.

“Ready maybe isn’t the word,” the smaller boy laughed, intertwining their fingers. “Not like I really have another option.”

 

**x/x**

 

The streets were somewhat wet by the time Carlos arrived on the steps of the Radcliffe’s home. He’d been told they had a country house, too, which greatly confused him. Why did people need two homes? He was clutching his trash bag tightly, looking up at the unfamiliar sights. Grey streets, stone buildings, paper-white sky. It reminded him of the island just a tiny bit, except there was an air of refinement that the hovels and shanties of the Isle never had. 

It took him a good five minutes to gather up his courage and knock, holding Dude tightly to his chest. After a lot of consideration, Ben had finally agreed to let him bring his dog along, for which he was grateful. 

_ What will their reaction be? Will they hate me? Do I look like her? Will they be scared?  _

The royal guard who had accompanied him there finally grew tired of watching the boy stare at the door. He climbed the steps with ease and knocked, shaking his head. 

Carlos looked down, his ears burning red. Great, this guy thought he was either a moron or a coward. But before he could decide which was worse, the door was opened by a woman. 

“Mrs. Radcliffe, this is -” 

But she cut the royal guard off, smiling sweetly at Carlos. “You must be Carlos.”

He looked up at her, studying her face. She didn’t look frightened or upset, not yet anyway. Then again, he was standing here on her steps, arriving with nothing but a half-full trash bag looking less than intimidating. 

“This is Carlos,” the guard said giving him a little nudge forward. “The King -”

“Yes, he met with us, don’t worry,” she said, extending a hand. “Can I take your bag?” 

Carlos blinked, still holding the bag close. Mrs. Radcliffe didn’t press it.

“Oh, this must be your dog!” she exclaimed instead, smiling at the excited scruffy ball in the freckled boy’s arms. “The King told us all about him, too.” She laughed as Dude sniffed her hands and clothes. “I bet he smells the Dalmations.” 

When Carlos finally stepped inside, Mrs. Radcliffe waved to the guard and shut the door. She reached up, untangling the reading glasses from her red hair and setting them down on a table. “I’m so sorry, we didn’t expect you for another hour.” She walked over to the stairs, calling, “Roger, he’s here.”

Standing in the center of the room, Carlos noted how cozy it felt. There were books lying on many of the surfaces and a fire in the fireplace, all giving the implication that the space was well-used. How strange. 

“Carlos, would you like to meet the dogs?” Mrs. Radcliffe asked, coming over to him. “I was thinking of keeping them put away until you got settled. His Majesty said you used to be afraid of dogs, so if you don't want to see them, we’ll keep them put away.” 

“No… it’s fine,” he said softly, biting his lip. “I’m learning that they're okay. Thank you, Mrs. Radcliffe.” 

“Please,” she smiled, shaking her head. “Anita’s fine.” 

It took a moment for her words to register, and then, he nodded, following Anita to another room where the spotted puppies were resting. 

“Pongo, Perdita, come here, darlings,” she called, laughing as the oldest dogs came to greet her. Their energy had dwindled over the years, and they walked with a slight limp, but their tails wagged all the same. Both of the elderly Dalmations looked very interested in Dude - who Carlos had finally set down - but barred their teeth immediately at the sight of Carlos, low growls beginning in their throats. They knew exactly who he was. 

“Oh, hush,” Anita said, trying to hide her distress as she leaned down to pet them. “This is Carlos.” She smiled encouragingly at the boy, who was slowly stepping backwards. “They’re just… cautious. Nothing against you, of course, they do this to everyone new.” 

He appreciated her trying to play it off, but Carlos shook his head. He wasn't a child. He knew who his mother was and what she'd done. “I’m not her,” he managed to whisper. “I’m not her…” 

Perdita and Pongo looked at him, their heads tilted some. Even Anita watched him, his words surprising her. She didn’t know quite what to say. Suddenly, a tiny puppy flopped off the couch and stumbled over, stumbling into his legs.

“Chita!” Anita cried, bending down to pluck the puppy off of him. “We’ve talked about manners!’ 

“Is that puppy one of theirs?” Carlos asked quietly, gesturing towards Pongo and Perdita, who still looked wary, but had silenced their growls for time being. 

“No, no,” Anita smiled, stroking the small puppy in her arms. “Roger and I have dedicated our lives to rescuing dogs ever since the, uh, incident. This is one of the pups we found abandoned on the street a few weeks ago. We couldn’t find her mother anywhere.” 

Carlos looked at the little Dalmatian wriggling against her chest. “She’s beautiful.” 

Anita nodded, smiling, thought for a moment, then held the puppy out to him. “Would you like to hold her?” 

He thought for a moment, nodding, letting her lay the small dog in his arms. She was so delicate, tiny. Full of energy until his fingers found her favorite spots and created those little puppy purrs that vibrated both of their bodies.

Anita didn't know why - it didn't make sense - but Carlos didn't scare her. She could tell by the way he held himself that there was something closed off about him. Something secretive. But she’d gotten pretty good at reading people, and whatever he was keeping to himself wasn't malicious. He had he eyes of a broken boy, not a demon.

Her husband’s voice drew her back out into the living room. “Anita? Is he here?” 

“He’s with the dogs,” Anita said softly, kissing his cheek. “Hello to you, too, darling.” 

“You left him with Pongo and Perdita?” Roger raised an eyebrow. “Are they okay? They might react badly - he might hurt -” 

His wife shook her head, holding up her hand. “It’s okay, they were... hesitant, but I think it’s best if we let them get used to him. We can’t very well have them attacking him, can we? And he won't hurt them, at least I hope not. He has a dog of his own that he’s barely let go of.” 

Roger looked a little concerned, but nodded. Lowering his voice, he looked around to make sure Carlos wasn’t around. “Does he look like her?” 

Anita bit her lip, nodding some. “There’s resemblance, yes. He looks a lot she did when she was younger.” 

“Does he know that you went to school with his mother?” Roger asked, straightening up some books on the coffee table. 

“I have no idea,” the woman answered, shrugging. “But please don’t discuss that with him, he seems very quiet. He’s hardly said a word since he got here.” 

“Understandable, he’s in a strange place with new people. His mother probably didn’t speak very highly of us.” 

“And we didn’t speak highly of her.” Anita patted his arm. “He’s given us no reason to doubt him. He’s just a kid, Roger.” 

 

**x/x**

 

Agrabah was exactly like Jay had pictured it. 

Dry, hot, sandy, precisely as his father had described it to him. The only thing Jafar hadn’t done justice was, surprisingly, the massive palace itself. It was visible from almost every angle in the city, rising above the arid ground and sloping roof tops to sparkle white as a dove against the orange sky. 

“Come along please, the sultan and sultana are expecting you.” The guard Ben had assigned to escort the thief seemed unimpressed with the place, and Jay figured it must lose its charm after the hundredth visit. 

The marketplace was where they ran into trouble. Strangely enough, it wasn’t unlike the one back on the island - open air, with lots of stalls, the voices of peddlers hawking their wares to passerbys. And once he got over the shock of it all, Jay realized that this place came with one major advantage: actually items of worth. As he hurried by the stands offering necklaces and fresh fruit and clothes, he fingers twitched with anticipation. Jafar’s son shoved his hands in his pockets, forcing his feet to move forward. He wasn’t gonna take anything, he couldn’t, not when he was trying to clean up his act. 

But it was like trying to stifle a sneeze: the urge could only be fought off for so long. A small step to the left, a quick smile, and suddenly a jade stone ring was weighing heavily in his pocket. No one had noticed. Why should they? He’d spent his life perfecting this art, and this was by no means the hardest grab he’d ever gotten. 

Jay went unnoticed in another way, too. He fit in quite nicely with the citizens of Agrabah on the surface. His tan skin, dark hair and eyes perfectly matched those of the surrounding market-goers and there was no doubt that his lineage was rooted in the region. It was all very unnerving, like peeking into a life he could’ve led. He might’ve walked these streets daily had his father not gotten himself tossed in prison. Maybe Jay would’ve shopped in the marketplace or lived nearby, looking up at the palace every day. Maybe it would’ve felt like home. 

The royal guard brought Jay right up to the palace gate, and the thief stood a little off to the side while his convey conversed with the Agrabah security. 

“The sultan is ready for you,” one of them finally said, allowing him inside the palace walls. 

Jay had heard all about the Sultan Aladdin. How he had been a liar. A thief. And how he’d somehow managed to evade the island and take the hero’s throne instead. The dark-haired boy used to think about the fabled street rat quite a bit back on the Isle, wondering what made them different. Intentions, the Auradon citizens would argue, but that wasn’t true. Aladdin stole because he was hungry, and Jay had stolen because he was hungry. They’d both done whatever it took to get by, and still, one was dubbed a bad person and the other a paragon of virtue worthy of ruling a kingdom. The former locked the other away for the same crimes that had risen the latter to the top. 

“You must be Jay.” A voice drew him out of his internal ruminating and back into the present. The guards had taken him up to the grand front doors, and now, the other object of his father’s animosity was standing right in front of him. And although he was smiling, there was just enough tension to alert Jay of his apprehension. 

“You all may come inside,” Aladdin stepped to the side, nodding to the guards, who received his underlying message. 

_ Don’t leave just yet. Make sure he’s not planning anything.  _

Jay didn’t blame him, of course; he wouldn’t trust the offspring of an attempted murderer either. 

If possible, the inside of the palace was even more luxurious than the outside conveyed. Everything about the interior spoke of excess: floor length curtains, the jewels, the marble columns. Jay mentally cursed, eyeing the heirlooms displayed on every wall, surely gilded and encrusted with precious jewels. 

_ Don’t take anything, don’t take anything, don’t take anything.  _

“You must be the Jay.” A woman who could only be Jasmine rose from her throne, coming to meet him. All these people seemed to know about him was his name. And that was fine by him. 

“That’s me.” He didn’t let the guards placed on all sides intimidate him. He had nothing to hide (except, of course, for that ring).

“Jas and I would like to welcome you to the palace of Agrabah.” Aladdin took his wife’s hand, and they both gave him a respectful nod. “We’re very glad to have you with us.” It was just a little too sweet to be authentic. 

“Geez, Dad, it’s just Jay.” A familiar voice cut through the tension in the room like a tourney stick. Aziz. The heir to the Agrabah throne, and defensive wingman for the Fighting Knights. 

Jasmine immediately softened some as she turned to her son. “I know, but the King -”

“- is literally also our teammate, and rooms down the hall from us.” Aziz gave Jay a friendly smile, bumping fists with him. “Chill. Jay’s not gonna like, hypnotize us or anything.” 

His parents still looked unsure, but managed to nod. 

“Yes, of course,” the sultan said, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Would you show him upstairs to his room?” 

“Sure.” 

“One of the guards can help him with his bag if he’d like.” Jasmine offered in such a way that Jay knew it wasn’t really a choice, despite it being presented that way. If the sultana and her husband wanted to take precautions around him, he could care less. But no one touched his things without his permission.

“No,” Jay said in a gruff voice. “I’ve got my own bag.” 

“Please, we insist -” 

“And I’m telling you both, it’s fine.” The thief shouldered the bag to prove his point, which seemed to do the trick. As the guards and Aziz accompanied him out of the throne room, he caught Aladdin and Jasmine glance worriedly at each other. 

_ For fuck’s sake,  _ Jay thought with an inward groan.  _ Subtlety isn’t an art these people have learned at all.  _

  
  


**x/x**

 

Dinner was served at seven. 

“I’m sorry, Carlos,” Anita said, ladling a bowl of soup for him. “I would’ve made your favorite meal, but no one would tell me what it was. Tomorrow morning, if you’d like, I can make anything you wish.”

“Oh, no, this looks delicious,” he said in a soft voice, taking the bowl in both hands. “I don’t actually have a favorite food.” 

“The King mentioned that you have a fondness for chocolate,” Roger said, helping his wife set the table. 

This brought out faint blush in the boy’s cheeks. “Oh. Yes, well… I’d never tried any until coming here. It’s really nice, the way it coats your tongue...” He instantly thought of the chocolates Jay kept in his pocket and smiled to himself. He could really go for one of those right about now. 

As the three of them sat down at the table, the room was filled with the clink of silverware and movement of dishes. 

“So, Carlos,” Roger said cautiously, buttering a piece of bread. “How are you enjoying Auradon?”

“Very well, thank you.” Carlos said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 

“How’s Auradon Prep? That’s the best school in the whole country. Only the royals can really afford the tuition.” 

“Tution?” the boy tilted his head. “I didn’t think about that.” 

“Didn’t think about what?” Anita and Roger made eye contact. 

“We don’t have to pay.” If possible, Carlos’ voice became softer. “We go there for free.”

“Oh, well, you’re, like, an exchange student, right?”  Roger said, pausing with his spoon hovering. 

Even though the boy nodded, his face fell. Exchange student implied that he would have to go home someday, that the arrangement was temporary, and he wondered whether these people thought he was returning to the Isle. The thought made him uneasy, and he struggled to finish the last few bites of his soup. He forced himself to eat every drop, though.

“Would you like more?” Anita asked gently, noticing that his bowl was empty. 

He was torn between listening to his stomach and his mind. 

_ Who knows when your next meal will be. Eat it.  _

In the end, he accepted not one, but two more bowls of soup. With a very full stomach, he got up to clear his dish and began cleaning the kitchen. Restoring order was calming. Clean counter tops, stacked dishes, shiny pans. All perfectly placed, and gave him some peace of mind. 

“Carlos!” Anita gasped when she walked in. “You didn’t have to - I’m - where did you learn to do this so well?” 

He blushed, looking around. It was very odd to be praised for something expected of him. Why did she look like he’d just given her a gift? “Um, my moth… back on the Isle. I did it, a lot.”

“This is incredible, I feel so badly.” She looked around the sparkling kitchen, shaking her head. “Thank you, you did not have to do this for us.” 

Another strange thing about these people: clean-up was appreciated, not expected. 

Later that evening, Anita and Roger showed him to the guest room. It was small, but nowhere near as tiny as the closet he’d slept in back home. Dude seemed happy enough and immediately jumped up on the bed so he could curl up near the pillow. 

“Dude!” Carlos went over to him anxiously, trying to pull him off. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to do that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Roger smiled, standing in the doorway. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re a dog-friendly house.” 

“Okay, bud. It sounds like you can stay right there.” Carlos looked up at the Radcliffes thankfully. He hoped they understood just how comforting Dude would be to sleep with now that Jay wasn’t there. 

“If you get cold, there’s more blankets in the closet down the hall.” 

“Thank you, really, you’ve been very hospitable.” 

The Radcliffes wished him goodnight, and he listened as their footsteps faded on the stairs. Sitting on the bed, he bounced a little, testing the firmness. Not that he’d know a good mattress from a bad one, having only slept on one other real bed in his life, but he’d read books where people had done it and it seemed like the thing to do in a new place. This one was harder than his one back in the dorms, but felt okay otherwise. He decided to get ready for bed and was starting to change into something more comfortable when his phone started to ring. 

“Shit.” Carlos quickly turned off the ringer, but immediately felt better when he saw who was FaceChatting. “Jay!” 

“Carlos, are you naked?” 

“No.” Carlos blushed hard, biting his lip. “I’m in my underwear.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, sitting back on what looked like an expensive looking chaise lounge. “Guess you’re having a good time then.”

Just the familiar sound of Jay’s voice was enough to relieve the day’s tension, and Carlos swallowed hard to remove the lump in his throat. “I was just changing.”

“Well, then why are you smiling?”

“Because it’s really good to hear your voice.” 

Jay laughed, shaking his head, and it filled the freckled boy’s heart to nearly bursting levels. “Dude, we’ve literally been gone for six hours and you’re already homesick.” 

Carlos lay back on the bed, petting Dude with his free hand. “Just Jay-sick. I miss you so fucking much. How is it where you are?” 

“A little weird,” the thief said, his arm curling behind his head. “Not gonna lie. I mean… I don’t think Jasmine likes me very much. Then again, I’m not… being the friendliest either.”

“Fine by me. Don’t let them hurt you.” Carlos didn’t care if Jay was rude, just so long as he came home in one piece. 

“Aziz is here on holiday, so I don’t think there will be too much of an issue,” Jay assured him, laughing when he saw the freckled boy’s face darken. “Hey, it’s not like I’m gonna be screwing him behind your back, ‘Los.” 

“Okay…” 

“Do you want me to promise?” 

“No, I trust you.” Cruella’s son smiled again. “So where are you?” 

“In my room.” The dark-haired teen flipped the camera so Carlos could see. “If you can call it a room, it’s a beast. Double the size of our dorm for sure, maybe more, I don’t know. My personal math genius has kinda been separated from me.” 

“Woah.” The younger boy gasped, looking at the huge marble room, complete with pillows and colored drapery. “That’s bigger than the Radcliffes’ entire house.” 

“How are they treating you?” Jay lowered his voice, turning the camera back. “They’re not hurting you, are they? They’re feeding you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, they are,” Carlos assured him, the corners of his mouth twitching. He was glad Jay was thoughtful enough to ask. “They’ve been really nice, actually. Anita’s sweet and Roger tries hard to make conversation. And they have dogs! Lots of them! There’s a really cute one named Chita. They rescued her off the streets and she’s so small.” 

“Like you,” the rogue joked, with a wink. “I’m glad, though. Makes this whole thing easier. Are you going to bed?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna try. I’m guessing it’ll take me awhile.” 

“Lucky,” Jay groaned, throwing a pillow across the room. “Not the taking awhile part, just the going to bed bit. I have to go downstairs in a few minutes for some shitty dinner.” 

Carlos grinned. “Eat some food for me.” 

“Will do,” Jafar’s son promised. 

“Have you heard from the girls?” 

Jay nodded, still stretched out on the lounge. “Yeah, Mal hasn’t stopped texting me. She’s… not too happy with the sleeping arrangements.” 

“They have an entire castle,” Carlos frowned. “Surely they have a guest bedroom for her.” 

“Yeah, but apparently Aurora and Phillip think that it would be nice for the girls to get to know each other better. So Audrey’s gonna be her new roomie for the week.” 

“Oh, damn.” 

“I know right.” The thief couldn’t help snorting at the thought of Mal and Audrey trying to get along. “Makes our situation seem like a breeze in comparison.” On his end, there was a sudden knocking, and his smile disappeared. “Shit, I gotta go to dinner.” 

Carlos felt his heart sink, and he bit back the burning feeling in his throat. “Okay. I’ll see you soon?” 

“Of course.” Jay looked just as reluctant to hang up. “Carlos, my ringer is on full volume. If you need me or can’t fall asleep or something happens, I will find a way to get to you. Got it?” 

“Got it.” 

“Take care of yourself.” 

“You, too.” 

_ Come home safe and sound.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer (for this chapter and the next): I am NOT in any way trying to villainize Aladdin or Jasmine or any of the other characters in this chapter. What they say and do is being evaluated from Jay and Carlos' perspectives and their anger/insecurity will morph well-intended comments or phrases into something else.


	32. Stitches Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys reunite (with new resolutions and promises)

>   _“I want to make coming home your favourite part of the day. I want to leave tiny little words lingering in your mind, on nights when you’re far away and can’t sleep. I want to make everything around us beautiful; make small things mean a little more. Make you feel a little more. A little better, a little lighter. The coffee is warm, this cup is yours. I want to be someone you can’t live without._
> 
> _I want to be someone you can’t live without.”_
> 
> _~ Charlotte Eriksson_

* * *

 Dinner was awkward to say the least.

Jasmine kept throwing him suspicious glances, and it took all of Jay’s willpower not to get caught stealing the silverware just to see her reaction. He knew Carlos would’ve thought it was hilarious to the see the sultana freak out over a fork being slipped into his pocket, but for some reason, the whole thing just didn’t seem as appealing without his white-haired partner-in-crime.

The only good thing about the dinner was the food, and Aziz (in that order). The dishes were delicious, full of flavor and colors. Full platters of spiced chicken and yellow rice, lentils and small dishes of yogurt sauce. Jay wanted to taste everything on the table, which he managed to do pretty well. And the prince kept the conversation flowing, often bringing up tourney, so at least Jay could follow along and participate if he felt like it.

When Aladdin leaned over to say something to his wife, Jay couldn’t help overhearing.

“I know what my dad did,” the thief reminded them, annoyed. “I know exactly what he did. He bragged about it constantly.”

It was only after the two rulers of Agrabah looked at him with raised eyebrows that he realized they’d spoken in Arabic.

“You can speak Arabic?” Aladdin asked, laying down his spoon. “Did Jaf - your father teach that to you?”

“Teach,” Jay scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Just like he taught me how to duck from his fists.”

“Your father hit you?” Jasmine’s wary attitude shifted, and she was suddenly looking more concerned. Jay almost missed the glares. 

“Only when I was in trouble.” He didn’t really see what the big deal was. Why were they all staring at him? “He never banked on me getting smart enough to fight back, see." 

No one else seemed to know quite what to say, and the thief was getting very tired of their pitying gazes.

“So, Jay, have you gone on any more dates?” Once again, Aziz swooped in trying to save the day. Seriously, the thief owed him big time. It wasn’t like they were particularly good friends or anything, but the guy worked hard at practice, and he and Jay were pretty good at working together on the field. They’d suffered through the hard practices in the heat of the day, and the early morning runs with Coach screaming at them to run faster, push harder. Suddenly, the dark-haired boy realized that they were still part of a team, even off the field. And this was what teammates did. So he gave Aziz the first genuine smile of the meal.

“Well, not exactly,” Jafar’s son shrugged, vaguely wondering how Aziz knew that he and Carlos had started a thing.

“You’re dating someone?” Jasmine actually smiled, tucking her long braid over her shoulder. “That’s wonderful.” Apparently, the thought of him having a significant other was comforting to her. As if he couldn’t possibly be evil and date at the same time.

“Well,” Jay shook his head. “We haven’t actually gone on a date, yet. Not that I'm not planning shi- stuff.”

“On Jas and my first date, I took her on a magic carpet ride around the world,” Aladdin informed the table with a smile.

 _Everyone knows that,_ Jay thought, rolling his eyes internally. Out loud, he said, “I really don’t think I’ll be able to pull that one off with Fairy Godmother breathing down our necks about non-magic laws. That and Carlos is afraid of heights.”

“Carlos?” Aladdin frowned for a moment, as if trying to place the name. “As in, Cruella de Vil’s son, right? I heard his name in the news." 

“Yes.” The thief folded his arms. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Dude, I thought you were dating Lonnie.” Aziz looked very confused and Jay realized now that they'd never been discussing Carlos. He'd just outed them on accident.

_Shit._

“She and I weren’t a real thing,” Jay said, his hand fidgeting with the ring he’d stolen earlier. He wouldn’t out Lonnie too, her reasons for not pursuing him being just as private. “It was always Carlos. Kind of.”

“We don’t have a problem with that,” Jasmine said quickly, giving her husband a worried glance. “It’s just unusual in these parts, but… it's not… so how'd you two…  get together?”

_We nearly died in your little island prison and that kinda thing brings people together. He's also adorable and sweet and funny and hot as hell._

“Just kind of happened,” Jay shrugged. He’d finished his plate and wanted to be excused.

Unfortunately, it took another twenty minutes for the table to be cleared and the boys to be allowed to leave.

“I’m sorry if that was awkward,” Aziz apologized as they climbed the staircase. “My parents are just kind of wary of everyone from the Isle.”

“For good reason,” Jay shrugged. He wasn’t bothered by their closed-off attitudes, not really. He didn’t need anything from them.

“So you and Carlos, huh?” Aladdin’s son looked over at him, clearly trying to get a read on the situation. “You didn’t mean to tell us that, did you?”

“I thought that’s who we were talking about from the beginning,” the thief shrugged. “Not that I’m hiding it or anything.”

They’d reached the hallway where they would part ways, the guest bedroom being down at the other end of the corridor.

“It’s not very common here.” The prince echoed his mother’s earlier words.

“So?” That didn’t bother Jay either. Why were these people so obsessed with what everyone else thought? On the Isle, all kinds of arrangements had been made. Boys, girls, hell he’d even heard that Harry Hook had a thing with a rock (there was something not right about that guy). Broad daylight, midnight, hidden, in the middle of the street, as long as there were no feelings, it was an “anything-goes” kind of world. Auradon had a lot of useless rules, but rules about love? Jay couldn’t think of anything more ludicrous.

That’s why, the moment he stepped into the guest room, he was the one to pick up the phone and call Carlos again. The thief just wanted to hear someone’s voice who understood.

“Jay!”

“‘Los, why aren’t you in bed?” Jay asked, sitting back down on the chaise he’d called the other boy from earlier. “You said you were gonna go to sleep and that was hours ago.”

“I couldn’t.” Carlos was sitting on chair by the window by the looks of it, wrapped up in a blue blanket.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” the white-haired boy said softly, his brown eyes filled with guilt.

“Carlos,” the thief sighed. “I want to be bothered by you. Look, try to sleep now, okay? I’ll stay on the video with you the whole time, that way it’ll be just like I’m there.”

There was a lot of rustling and shaky movement from the camera, the screen going blurry. When the picture cleared up, the younger teen was in his bed, still holding the phone.

“How was dinner?”

“Do I have to answer?” Jay groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“Shitty?”

“The shittiest.”

“Any particular reason?” asked the white-haired boy, staring at Jay with concern.

“These people, I hate them.” The thief didn’t really hate them. He hated their ideas, their rules. Luckily for him, Carlos understood.

“I get it,” he answered, with just a hint of a yawn. From the way the camera was positioned, Jay could tell that Carlos was lying down. “Just…  beat… ‘em up, okay?”

The dark-haired teen laughed, feeling a sudden rush of fondness for the boy on the other end. “Okay. I will. For both of us.”

“Don’t worry,” Cruella’s son giggled sleepily. “I can handle myself.”

The white-haired teen was so tired he was getting punch drunk, but Jay knew better than to bring it up. The more the younger boy tried to force himself to sleep, the longer it took him. No, if the thief  just kept him talking, Carlos would fall asleep all on his own. “Did you like the dogs at the Radcliffe’s house? Were you afraid of them?”

“A little bit.” The freckled boy really yawned this time. “They growled at me. But then they stopped. I liked the little one. I think I’m gonna stick with Dude-sized dogs.”

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.” Jay watched as Carlos’ eyes slowly closed, and after a moment, he realized the boy had fallen asleep with the phone still clutched loosely in his hands. “‘Night, ‘Los.”

The thief moved to his bed, lying down and flicking off the light. He kept the phone right next to him, so close he could even hear Carlos’ soft snores through coming through the speaker.

_Sleep tight. Stay safe._

 

**x/x**

 

“Do you have all your things, Carlos?”

While he appreciated Anita’s asking (and figured that was probably what every hostess what supposed to say), the freckled teen had to give her a wry smile. His “things” could all fit in the bottom half of one trash bag. “Yes.”

“The royal limousine will be here to get you in a half hour,” Roger said, clearing away the breakfast dishes. Both the Radcliffes had repeatedly insisted that Carlos couldn’t help with the clean-up this morning.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” Not that he’d had a choice. Carlos really didn’t see how it facilitated much healing either, other than proving he wasn’t a complete maniac like his mom (although that bit was still up for discussion). He liked Anita, and Roger, too, he supposed. They were sweet, not too loud, and liked books. He and Anita had spent breakfast having a lengthy discussion about some of her favorites and had even let him borrow a few. So, in a way, maybe there had been some healing after all.

_I wonder if this is what it feels like to have a mother, a real one. Someone who offers you blankets and food and doesn’t hurt you. It’s sort of nice._

Not that Carlos wasn’t ready to go home. He liked the Radcliffe’s house just fine, but there was one thing it didn’t have: Jay. He really missed Jay. His phone had been dead this morning after falling asleep still on the call. Carlos had briefly wondered why the dark-haired boy hadn’t just hung up, but then figured the thief was probably just as uncomfortable in a new place has he had been.

The entire limousine ride back to Auradon Prep, Carlos couldn’t keep his legs still. He hadn’t been able to the trip over either, but this was different. This was excitement. He wanted to see the girls and his boyfriend.

Boyfriend? Could he call Jay that now? They hadn’t gone on any dates, but they’d held hands. And kissed. And his stomach turned somersaults around him. The freckled boy ate one of the many peanut butter cups the limo provided and mulled it over. What made someone viable of the label? On the island, they hadn’t labeled anything. People fighting for their lives didn’t have time for stupid names and definitions and strange courting rituals.

 _He’s my Jay,_ Carlos finally decided. _For now, he’s my Jay._

 

**x/x**

  


Jay wondered if the car was moving slower than usual or if it was just him.  

After last night’s dinner conversation, he wanted more than ever to see Carlos. Not just because he'd missed him like hell, but thanks to the Agrabah ruling family’s apprehension at his choice in boyfriend, he wanted to make it official. To make sure that everyone in the whole world knew that he wasn't ashamed of Carlos de Vil.

 _That's not too common here,_ Jay mimicked the phrase inwardly, making a face. _Fine by me. I don't wanna be a fucking carbon copy._

The thief couldn't wait to hear Carlos’ laugh, to see his nose wrinkle up, to hear him go on and on about something he'd learned.

By the time the car pulled up the long driveway to the front of the school, Jay was just about ready to throw himself out of the thing while it was still moving. He looked eagerly out he window, scanning the students milling about for any sign of the familiar white curls.

“Jay!”

He heard the voice before he saw him, his feet barely on the ground before it hit his ears. Running across the lawn at top speed was his favorite person in the world. The thief caught the boy in his arms, laughing, holding him tight.

_You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re safe._

“Are the girls alright? Are they home?” he asked, still holding onto Carlos for dear life. The dark-haired boy needed his family back together.

“Not yet,” Carlos shook his head. “They're coming though. In two more limos, they're coming, Jay. We’re gonna be okay.”

“I want to ask you something,” Jay brought his lips close to the smaller boy’s ears so only he could hear. “Can I kiss you?”

“In front of all these people?” Carlos’ eyes lingered on the students doing last minute homework or talking in large groups, taking in the end of the long weekend. “Why?”

“Because I want to,” Jay shrugged. “I’m proud of you.”

His words resulted in the deepest blush of all, the freckled boy’s skin tingling all over as his stomach graduated to executing triple backflips. “You… you are?”

“Yes.”

Carlos didn't know how to respond to that. Jay was proud of him. He wanted him. He liked him. And the white-haired teen definitely wanted Jay to kiss him, so he nodded several times, hoping it got the message across.

Apparently it did, because Jay leaned down and pressed his lips to Carlos’, kissing him like his whole life depended on it. Holding the boy impossibly close, letting himself explore Carlos’ mouth, kissing until neither of them could breathe.

And while people around them were definitely noticing, neither of them saw a thing beyond each other.

“‘Los,” Jay panted finally, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes. “Wanna go out with me?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Carlos teased, his eyes simply shimmering, his lips red and kiss-swollen.

“Answer the fucking question, de Vil.” _So I can kiss you again._

“Hell yes.”


	33. Polaris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they find home

  _“I love the stars._

_Because they can't say anything._

_I love the stars._

_Because they do not judge anyone.”_

_~ Natsuki Takaya_

* * *

 Dating in Auradon was weird, incredibly so.

The day after the four villain kids returned to school, Carlos started noticing for the first time how high maintenance everyone made the whole courting deal.

“Chad,” he heard Audrey say as he walked past her locker in the hall. “You can wear the baby blue tux, but remember, you have to wear the pink tie! The one that matches my dress! _Not_ the dark one you got for your birthday, the one I gave you, okay? And reservations are at seven, so pick me up downstairs by the staircase at six thirty. Earlier than that, and I won’t be there. Don’t be an idiot.”

The freckled boy tried imagine Jay telling him how to dress and where to stand and being so _bossy._ Sure, they teased each other and were downright assholes on occasion, but it was all in jest and both of them knew it. Did dating mean having to put more rules around their relationship? Did it mean going out to dinner? Except for Evie, none of the other Isle kids had spare cash anyway.

“Carlos,” he heard a familiar voice say, mimicking Audrey’s imperious tone. “You have to wear the red shorts, okay? The ones Evie made you that make your ass look fine. Oh wait, look at that, you’re already wearing them.” Jay was leaning nonchalantly against one of the lockers, smirking.

“Hey there, fucker,” Carlos smiled affectionately, trying not to glow too much at the compliment. “You heard that conversation, too?”

“I did have the pleasure of overhearing it,” the thief laughed, draping an arm across Carlos’ shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. “Now, if you’d asked me how many fucks I’d give, I’d have to say zero.”

Suddenly, Carlos wasn’t worried about dating anymore. Jay wasn’t Audrey, nor was he from Auradon. He was simply and beautifully _Jay_ , the asshole who’d stolen what was left of his heart.

“So,” the thief grinned as they walked across the sunny lawn. “Date night tonight.”

“You remembered,” Carlos teased with a smile. “I was sure it would _slip_ your mind, just like that test last week that you just totally forgot to study for.”

“I don’t forget important things,” his boyfriend shot back.

“Can you tell me where we’re going tonight?” Carlos begged, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Please?”

“No. It’s a surprise.” Jay gave him another devious smirk. “Surely someone as clever as you knows what ‘surprise’ means.”

“It means I’m gonna kick your ass if you don’t spill,” the smaller boy warned, his threats diminished slightly by the brightness in his eyes.

“I’ll take my chances.”

 

**x/x**

 

“Do you like this?” Carlos asked anxiously, surveying his outfit critically in the mirror.

“Yes. I liked the other three too,”  Evie smiled, nodding approvingly. “The spotted shirt is cute, but I’d pair it with the black shorts.”

“Jay said my ass looks good in these though.” Carlos wasn't taking the red shorts off after that comment.

“Oh _ho_ ,” Mal grinned from her perch on Evie’s bed. “You’d better fucking sleep in those shorts - wait, on second thought, don’t sleep in anything at -”

“Mal!” Evie folded her arms, giving the purple-haired girl a look. “We’re focusing on his date night look! Take your wild fantasies elsewhere! But if he said that, Carlos, definitely leave those on.”

“Did he tell you guys where he’s taking me?” Carlos was dying to know.

“He came up with it all on his own.” The princess adjusted his collar, smoothing out the wrinkles on the hem. “But yes, he ran it past us. We’re not telling you, though. We want you to be surprised.”

“I just like torturing you.” Mal gave him a malicious smile.

The blue-haired girl finally stepped back to admire her work, nodding proudly. “You look positively gorgeous, hun. Go get ‘em.”

Jay was waiting for him in the hallway, grinning like he’d never stop. “You clean up nice.”

“Wish I could say the same about you,” the smaller teen joked, blushing. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth: the thief looked wonderful, with his hair all pulled back and a white t-shirt that was just thin enough to cling to his torso. And Carlos was always a fan of drop-crotch pants.

The older boy just rolled his eyes and held out his hand. “Ready?”

Cruella’s son didn't really know what he was expecting. He was steeling himself for a fancy dinner, or a loud movie, or any of the other places people mentioned when talking about dates. And those would be fun, even though loud noises scared him and he had no idea where they were gonna get the money to pay for any of the fancy restaurants, because Jay would be there. What Carlos didn't expect was Jay picking a lock on a door at the end of the hall, and taking him up a steep flight of stairs.

“Just up here,” the older teen promised, smiling wider than ever.

Colors. That's the first thing Carlos saw. Orange and pink and red and yellow all swirled together magnificent all around them. The sky was on fire as the sun set.

“We’re on the roof…” Carlos realized, his voice quiet in the night air.

“Best damn view in Auradon.” Jay was still holding Carlos hand, and he was looking at him carefully, judging his reaction.

But the younger boy still couldn't speak, turning in a full circle to take it all in.

At the edge of the roof, there was a whole box of chocolate chip cookies, two bottles of soda, and a four whole packages of peanut butter cups. To any other student at the school, it would've seemed like a very weird (or cheap) date. But to Carlos, it was the very best thing he could imagine. No crowds, no overly expensive meals, just his favorite foods and his favorite person.

“Dude, say something,” the thief urged with a nervous laugh. “You're scaring me.”

“Jay… it’s… this is…” Carlos turned to his boyfriend and kissed him, unable to express his gratitude any other way.

Jay laughed into the kiss, holding him until they finally stumbled apart. “Well, that was enthusiastic.”

They sat down on the edge, their feet dangling in the air. It was thrilling in all the best ways. Carlos refused to eat a bite until the sunset had faded away, barely blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment. When the last streaks of orange and pink melted into dark blue, he finally accepted the peanut butter cup Jay was holding out.

“Open up,” the dark-haired boy laughed, waving it in front of Carlos’ face.

“Jay!”

“Just do it!”

When Carlos finally opened his mouth, Jay popped the sweet inside, laying a kiss on the tip of his nose while he was at it. “There you go, pup.”

The freckled boy’s giggle rang out across the rooftop, sending shivers of happiness all down Jay’s spine.

“Peanut butter cups are my favorite things in the whole world,” Carlos sighed with pleasure, leaning against Jay’s arm.

“Hey, better not let your boyfriend hear you say that,” the dark-haired teen joked, pulling Carlos closer. “He might think you’re cheating on him.”

“Never.” Tipping his head back, the freckled boy admired the pinpricks of light above them. “I’d never seen real stars until we came here. That stupid dome…”

“Let me guess,” Jay smiled tenderly. “You know all the constellations anyway?”

“Well,” the other teen looked down, embarrassed. “Yes, but I don’t have to -”

“No,” the thief said quickly, pointing at a group of stars. “I wanna hear about them. What’s that one?”

“Ursa Major,” his boyfriend replied with a shy smile. “See? It includes the North Star: Polaris. If you’re ever lost, it can help you get your bearings. It’ll help you find your way back home.”

Jay nuzzled Carlos’ neck gently, lowering his voice. “You’re my North Star, then, okay? You help lead me home.”

It was cheesy, incredibly, so, and yet Carlos still felt like crying. He made a soft noise somewhere between a sob and laugh, his eyes closing.

“And besides,” the thief continued, his finger tracing across his boyfriend’s features carefully, connecting each freckle with a gentle brush of his hand. “I have all the constellations I need, right here. Your freckles rival the stars.”

Happiness wasn’t something Carlos expected. It certainly wasn’t something he was used to. But sitting there, at the edge of the roof with Jay, he let himself hope for the first time that maybe this wouldn’t be the last time he felt like this. And gazing up at the North Star, shining steadily in the inky blanket hovering above them, he couldn't help smiling.

_I'm his Polaris._

_I'm leading him home._

_We found home._


	34. Not Broken Just Bent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the stress of exams brings other things to light

_“When you really love someone, you see all their mess and their brokenness and you love them anyway. In fact, seeing all of that sort of makes you love them more.”_   
_~ Heather Helper_

* * *

Exams had come to Auradon. 

The library - which was usually fairly quiet - was suddenly the campus’ most popular destination, the tables crowded with laptops, pens, and furious students desperately trying to remember everything they’d managed to collectively memorize, then forget, during the past year. 

There were two types of exam takers: the careful-review-sheets-hundred-color-coded tabs-healthy-dose-of-tea-and-not-so-healthy-dose-of-stress kids. And then there were the crumpled-coffee-stained-notes-take-one-look-at-the-textbook-and-decide-to-wing-it ones. It wasn’t hard to guess which category people belonged to; all it took was a single glance. 

“Morning Jay,” Mal looked up from her coffee. Her notes were nowhere in sight, and a large plate of breakfast sat where her textbook should’ve been. “How many cups of this stuff have you had today?”

Jay had to think about it, frowning at his own white paper cup. “Too many,” he decided with a grin. “Much better than that sludge they used to call coffee back on the island.” 

Evie was seated next to Mal, muttering fervently to herself and not even bothering to say good morning.  _ “Avoir, boire, comprendre, connaître, croire, devoir -  _ that’s drunk… no! It’s ‘had to’... I think...  _ Dire, écrire…”  _

“French participles,” Mal explained to Jay with forced smile and a tone dripped in sarcasm. “I’ve been treated to the entire list recited over and over and over and over again. Isn’t that right, E?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” the princess begged under her breath, before resuming her French chanting. 

“So,” Mal took another sip of her coffee. “Where’s the other nerd in our lives?”

“He wouldn’t come to bed last night until he’d reviewed another three chapters for his Ethics of the Arcane exam this afternoon. Found him passed out this morning at his desk, so I’m letting him sleep in. For Carlos, three chapters can turn into seven before he even knows it.” 

“Ha,” Mal snorted. “He’s lucky you’re so nice. I would’ve been banging pots and pans to get him up. No rest for the weary, right, E?”

“Shut up!” the blue-haired girl cried again, shaking her head. 

“Touchy.” 

“You got an exam this morning, Mal?” Jay finished off the dregs of his cup and threw it in the trash. 

“Yup.” She took a large bite of toast. “And I’m already so done with this whole idea of finals.” 

It was one thing Dragon Hall thankfully never dealt with. You were either evil or you weren’t, it was obvious. They’d never bothered with written exams, not when there were way more practical ways to test out skills. Like elaborate schemes or hallway behavior or - Mal’s personal favorite - “Make a First Year Piss Their Pants”. 

_ Hope Carlos doesn't mind that I left without waking him up,  _ Jay thought to himself.  _ I'd hate if he had a nightmare because of me.  _

 

**x/x**

 

Carlos liked think there was a direct correlation between how he felt when waking up and his grades for the day. 

If he opened his eyes and they felt heavy or his brain sluggish, he would expect poor results on any exams or quizzes. On the other hand, if he woke up well-rested and smelling that familiar aroma of cinnamon and spices, his grades for the day were generally higher. Mal had told him that it was all made up in his mind, and it was very possible that she was right, but it seemed to work for him so far. If he had a system, he could predict, he could control. And Carlos liked control. 

Which was why, when he rolled the morning of his Arcane Ethics exam, the smell of spices immediately comforted him. A moment later, though, he’d noticed a strange lack of warmth in the bed next to him, and rethought his ordinal evaluation. 

“Jay?” 

The thief was gone. And the light coming through the window … it wasn't ever this sunny when he woke up. In fact, he usually rose earlier than Jay. Carlos shot out of bed, sending a piece of ripped notebook paper fluttering to the ground. 

 

_ Morning Pup.  _

_ Found you at your desk fast asleep. I remember you saying your exam was in the afternoon, so I moved you to your bed to let you sleep. Hope that's cool. Went to take my exam. Fingers crossed I won't fail.  _

_ See you soon.  _

_ Let's celebrate our first exams of the week with some peanut butter cups or something later, okay?  _

_ Insincerely,  _

_ Jay  _

 

An immediate smile lit up Carlos’ face as he read the note, his stress dying down almost instantly. At this point, he was almost fluent in the scrawl Jay called handwriting.

“Insincerely,” he laughed softly. The thief continued to use the old Isle sign off, like a tiny reminder that all the remedial classes and wands and sparkles wouldn't ever change him completely. And that was fine by Carlos. 

Even though the freckled boy had never observed a pattern for being tucked into bed and waking up to a (sweet by Jay’s standards) note, he allowed himself to believe that it boded well for the day. 

_ Gather your notes, check them over, don’t be late.  _

“So, de Vil.” 

He wasn't five steps out of his dorm when Chad Charming was by his side. Carlos didn't hate the kid. Sure, he was arrogant and spoiled and had no filter, but the freckled boy didn't waste his time hating egotistical jocks (someone could even argue that he was dating one). No, his anger was saved for really awful people. His mother, being the obvious example. And if she was the standard for a bad person, almost everyone in the world ranked higher by some degree. 

“Hey, Chad.” 

“So, is it true?” The blonde-haired prince kept stride with him, even though Carlos was fairly certain his class was in the other direction. Probably in another building even. “You're dating  _ Jay _ ?”

“Yes.” If Jay was proud enough to reveal it to the world, so was he. 

“What's it like?” Chad had lowered his voice, as if it was an astonishing secret. “You know, dating a boy?” 

“Just like dating Audrey.” Cruella’s son was still flipping through his notes as he walked, reciting definitions in his head. “Except Jay has a dick. And way better hair.” 

The prince gaped some, then leaned in closer. “So… have you… like…. seen it?” 

“His hair?” Carlos played innocent. “Yeah, everyone has. I think I like it when it's messy in the morning or up in a messy bun for practice, don't you?” 

“That's not -” 

“Charming, isn't your class that way?” The freckled boy pointed over his shoulder, still walking quickly and trying to hide his smile. Of course he’d known what Chad had meant.

“Yeah - uh - see you at practice?” The prince was still gaping at him, his mouth half open. 

“Yup.” 

That was one thing that had changed: Carlos got a lot more attention now that he was going out with Jay, which he wasn't exactly thrilled about. Luckily, it was mostly people like Chad - curious bystanders brave enough to ask a few questions. He’d only encountered a few snide remarks so far, which he'd handled okay. School gossip wasn't really a threat that concerned him; he'd lived with way worse than a few sexuality slurs for most of his life. 

And so, once Chad walked away, the only thing on his mind was passing his upcoming test. And Jay. 

Jay was always somewhere in there. 

 

**x/x**

 

“There's our little star student,” teased Jafar’s son when Carlos finally returned to the dorm later that evening. “How'd your exam go?” 

In response, Carlos flipped open one of his notebooks, words spilling out of his mouth at record speeds, even for him. “I swear I mixed up the definition between lawful good and chaotic neutral, I swear I looked the chart over, but I blanked, and - mph!” 

Jay had kissed him, but whether his motives were affectionate or simply trying to get Carlos to shut up, he did not disclose. 

“You did great,” he promised when they pulled apart, loving how Carlos still stayed close. 

“Quick, knock on wood!” the freckled boy gasped, reaching over to rap on the bedside table. “Don't jinx this for me. I’m serious, the first page was okay, but then I turned it over and -” 

“Let me tell you what we’re not gonna do, okay?” the thief laughed, swinging Carlos into his arms as the smaller teen wrapped his legs around his waist. It was quickly becoming their favorite way of hugging. “We are  _ not  _ gonna sit around here and discuss our tests and over analyze every -” 

“Oh shit!” Carlos burst out. “Your test! I forgot to wish you luck! I'm such a bad boyfriend. I'm sorry, you even left me a note -”

“On a ripped sheet of paper,” Jay grinned, nuzzling his neck. “And you are  _ not  _ a bad boyfriend. I know you were thinking of me. I could feel it.” 

That was true, at least. Carlos had been thinking about him (and quite frankly, that was the reason it had taken him so long to finish). 

“So, no nightmares? Even after I had to leave?” Jay swayed gently, looking up at Carlos’ pretty eyes. 

“Nope.” The smaller teen blushed shyly, his cheeks coloring. “I think your scent was still on the pillow I was using.” 

“Or you're getting better.” Jay kissed his cheek with a smile, trying to ignore the sudden wash of  _ guilt _ that crashed down on him. 

Why was he feeling guilty? He hated guilt. What was there to feel guilty about? 

“Jay…” 

And suddenly, he got it. The jade ring on his finger felt like red hot metal, burning into his skin. He nearly dropped Carlos trying to wrestle it off, gasping.

“Woah, woah, breathe, let me help you.” Carlos’ gentle fingers pried the ring off, but the smaller boy didn't flinch a bit. Jay reached out and found that the jewelry was cool to the touch. Why had it felt like it was searing into his flesh five seconds ago? 

“What the…” 

“Where'd you get this one?” Carlos asked, glancing up at Jay. 

“I stole it.” There. He’d said it. A new wave of heat washed over him, and the thief was sure Carlos could feel it this time. At least now he knew where the guilt was coming from. 

“When did you take it?” Carlos was still studying the ring, not even remotely upset or angry. 

“Agrabah, when I was in Agrabah.” Jay shook his head, scuffing his boot on the floor. “I really tried not to, ‘Los, I did.” 

“And I believe you.” Carlos nodded. “So what happened just now?”

It took a moment for Jafar’s son to round up his scattered thoughts. “It just hit me that you're getting better. And Mal is more comfortable and Evie, too. Except me. I'm…. just the same. Taking things that don't belong to me…” 

“Jay, that's not true.” His boyfriend shook his head fervently. “I cleaned the entire kitchen while I was with the Radcliffe’s. Like she was breathing right down my neck, like she was gonna come in and check my work. It's irrational, but that didn't stop me. She's always somewhere in the back of my thoughts. No matter how hard I work to keep her out, she keeps finding her way back in.” 

“Well, then maybe we can't be fixed.” 

Carlos took the thief’s hand, laying a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “You don't need fixing.”

Jafar’s son wasn't sure. He felt broken. He felt useless. 

“Shhh,” Carlos crooned, as if he could hear his thoughts. “Come on, come lie down with me. The stress of exams is taking its toll, I think.”

So the thief allowed himself to be pushed back on the bed (it didn't take that much convincing), and felt the smaller boy’s arms wrap around his waist. After awhile, the hands moved to his hair, playing with it gently. Braiding and unbraiding, combing through the strands. It was strange to be the one needing comforting. He wasn't used to it at all, and a strange sense of embarrassment settled in. 

“You don't always have to be so strong, you know,” Carlos said softly, his head on his boyfriend’s chest. “Sometimes, it's okay to fall apart.” 

“Now how could I fall apart,” Jay managed to smile. “If you're there holding me together?” 

Carlos scoffed at the horrible line, groaning loudly. “You need new pick up lines, dumbass. Seriously, this cheesiness is getting out of control.” 

“You love it, asshole.” 

“You can't just add asshole to the end of a phrase and expect me to smile, you know.” 

“Then explain to me why you're grinning right now.” 

Both boys were obviously beaming, some of the heaviness washing away with the arrival of familiar playful banter. There was no point in discussing it further; they both had all the information they needed. 

“I hate you, I hope you know that.” Jay ran his thumb across Carlos’ hand affectionately. 

“If you hate me, then I  _ despise  _ you.” 

They both knew exactly what each meant instead, and maybe soon enough, one of them would be brave enough to really say it. 

Maybe. 


	35. Ice Cream Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mal keeps finding ways to interrupt her favorite boys

> _ “And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.”  _
> 
> _ ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald _

* * *

 

_ See that boy over there? He's mine.  _

Carlos sat on the edge of the tourney field, letting the sun warm his curls and skin to the touch. Dude was sniffing around, his tail wagging lazily. There were plenty of blooming flowers and shifting clouds to look at, but the freckled teen had eyes only for the boy in center of the field.

Jay was twisting and turning spectacularly as a ball machine sent tourney balls soaring his direction, the thief’s stick driving one after the next into the back of the net. Cruella's son had declined to participate in the workout, preferring instead to sit in the grass and just stare unabashedly. Jay really was gorgeous, his tan skin glistening from sweat and each movement executed with so much power. 

“See him, bud?” Carlos smiled down at his dog, scratching him between the ears. “See how good he looks?” 

Now that the summer holidays had begun, most students had cleared out, leaving to visit their families or take a vacation. And the boys were once again discovering the joys of an empty campus. No whispers, no weird staring, no classes even, just the two of them and three whole months of freedom. 

“Hey.” Jay finally jogged over, dabbing his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. 

Carlos smirked with satisfaction, his eyes lingering on the exposed skin. “What's the point of even wearing a shirt of you're gonna do that?” he grinned, raising an eyebrow. 

The thief laughed and took a sip of water before spraying the smaller boy. “Mmm, bossy, aren't you de Vil?” 

“Hey!” Carlos yelped as the stream of icy water hit his chest. It felt good, to be honest, it was rather hot outside, but he wasn't going to let Jay know that. “You jackass!” 

“Oh, come on,” the dark-haired teen laughed. “It was barely a drop.” 

“You think so?” Cruella’s son bounded to his feet, wrenching the water bottle away and unscrewing the lid to dump its contents - ice and all- down Jay’s back. “How’s this for ‘barely a drop’?” 

“Fuck!” 

And then Carlos was sprinting across the field, laughing, listening to Dude bark at all the sudden excitement. He felt strong arms wrap around his waist, and a handful of ice being shoved down his shirt. 

“You think you're so clever, don't you?” Jay said, laughing as Carlos squealed loudly. “Maybe next time you should make sure you've dumped all the ice out before you take off.” 

“Cold, cold, cold, cold!” the white-haired boy danced around, trying to shake the ice cubes to the ground. “ _ Cold! Cold!  _ Dammit Jay! _ ” _

“You started it.” 

Carlos smirked again when he noticed how transparent Jay’s t-shirt had become. “If you weren't so sweaty, I’d kiss you right now.”

Jay grinned, putting his hair back up to fix the strands that had fallen out during their tousle. “Aw, babe, don't leave me hanging.” 

The smaller boy sucked in his breath, his stomach flipped. “Uh-” his voice cracked some. “Babe?”

“Did I stutter?” the thief laughed, folding his arms. 

“Well, fuck.” Carlos couldn't not kiss him now, and he found himself pressed up against Jay despite the salty taste. 

“Hey boys.” 

The both jumped apart to see Mal and Evie strolling across the field. The princess looked simply delighted, while the fairy’s crafty grin made Carlos step behind Jay and bury his face in the older boy’s back. 

“Aw, don't hide Spot,” Mal said. “We were just wondering how you boys have been taking advantage of the prudes taking flight.” 

“For the last time, Mal,” Evie sighed patiently. “You can't call them that, it's not accurate.” 

“Fine.” The purple-haired girl gave her a sweet smile. “Those priggish kiss-asses. Better?” 

“Sure.” 

“Relax, girls. I was just brushing up on my tourney skills.” Jay wasn't even blushing, his cocky grin never faltering for a second. 

“Oh sure,” Mal laughed, hands on her hips. “You were brushing up on something, but it had nothing to do with tourney. E and I aren't blind. We stumble upon our best friends making out in the middle of a field and you expect us to  _ not  _ say something?” 

“Carlos, it's okay.” Evie grabbed his hand and pulled him out from behind Jay, bringing him into a hug. “She’s only teasing.” 

The white-haired boy was red all over, the blush starting to creep down his neck. “‘S all good.” 

The purple-haired teen was still grinning maniacally, clearly enjoying her ability to wield this over them. “God, I love that you’re dating. Maybe E and I will walk in on you guys screwing next time  -” 

“MAL!” 

This time it was all three of them who yelled it - the fairy had crossed a line. 

“For fuck’s sakes.” Jay rubbed his forehead. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Too many things to count,” she cackled gleefully. “Besides, you boys can’t hide. We’re always gonna find out at the most inopportune moments. It’s our job as your friends.” 

“Friend is a strong word,” Jay muttered, hoping she didn’t see his smile. 

 

**x/x**

 

“I really like summer.” 

Jay laughed, glancing over at his boyfriend. “Do you now? Even when there’s no classes?” 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Carlos smiled shyly, swinging their hands gently as they walked. “I love school. But I also kinda like this too.” 

“Kinda?” The thief raised an eyebrow. 

“Mm, just sorta,” his boyfriend teased. “You wanna know what I really wanna do right now?” 

“Hmmm?” 

The freckled boy stood on tiptoe, just close enough for his breath to tickle Jay’s ear. Very slowly, he whispered, “I… wanna… beat you to the dining hall.” 

“WHY DO YOU KEEP GETTING THE JUMP ON ME?” the dark-haired boy roared, tearing off after him. 

By the time they’d both arrived at the refectory, the boys were out of breath and laughing. 

“I want ice cream.” Carlos grabbed the thief’s hand, pulling him inside as they were both blasted by the air conditioning. 

“You always want ice cream,” Jay reminded him, letting himself be led over to the soft serve machine. “You know, Ben told us not to waste our summer meal plan cards. He’s paying for all of us out of pocket.” 

The boys glanced at each other for half a second, then burst out laughing. 

“Ice cream isn’t a waste,” Carlos giggled. 

“I like your logic.” 

Carlos had tried every ice cream flavor he could find since coming to Auradon (including the strange types at the Seaside Festival that one time), but his favorite was always (not surprisingly) chocolate. Once he’d had chocolate peanut butter, and  _ that  _ had been heavily as well. And while Jay would eat any food that was put in front of him, he tended to go for the vanillas and the creams. 

“Opposite attract,” the white-haired boy observed as they walked out with their ice cream. 

“Well,” the thief smiled. “I am very, very attracted to you, so that must be true.” 

The younger boy already had chocolate dripping down his face, leaving a dark, sticky trail down his chin. 

“Let me help you out.” Jay gave Carlos a crafty grin, leaning down to lick it away. 

“You two get more disgusting by the day.” 

And there was Mal, leaning on a tree, observing them with Evie by her side. 

The boys groaned again. 

“I fucking can’t.” Jay shook his head, glaring at Mal. 

“I tried to stop her this time.” The princess looked apologetic. “It’s kinda hard to say no to those eyes.” 

“You mean the green flashy ones?” Carlos asked, still licking his ice cream. “The ones that mean death is coming? Or at least a lot of trouble and pain?”

“Yup.” Mal looked pleased with that description, winking at him. 

“I promise,” Evie laughed. “It won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Jay told her. 

 

**x/x**

 

“Hey Jay?” 

“Yeah?”

“You’re pretty.” 

The thief laughed, shaking his head as they lay side by side in the grass, staring up at the sky. “I know. That’s why every princess in the school likes staring at me.”

“They’re staring at your ass,” Carlos informed him with a chuckle. “Or the shirt that you put on backwards at least twice a week.”

“Well, if I didn’t have to get up so early, maybe I’d have more time,” Jay reasoned, watching a cloud move across the vast blue backdrop high above. 

“Dude, you literally push snooze so many times you only have five minutes by the time you drag yourself out of bed.” Carlos had seen it happen a hundred different mornings. 

“Touché.” 

The freckled boy rolled over for a kiss, but immediately stopped and glanced around. “Do you think she's nearby?” 

Jay didn't need to ask who. “Evie said she wouldn't let her do that again. If anyone can control the dragon, it's her.” 

Still, they gave each other a quick, chaste peck before scrambling away just in case. When nothing happened and no purple fairy jumped out to tease them, the thief snorted. 

“What are we, ten?” He glanced over at Carlos with an evil grin. “Those lips were sealed way too tight for my liking.” 

The smaller boy sat up, throwing a leg across Jay’s hips and settling himself on top. “How’s this?” He leaned down and the kiss this time was much more  _ sexy _ , as Jay liked to think.

And even though Mal was standing behind a tree at the top of the hill, she didn't say anything. 

“They're happy,” Evie told her with a smile. “Let them be happy.” 

“Jay once told me that there was no such thing as happiness,” the fairy pointed out, but she stayed hidden, watching their enthusiastic make-out. 

“Well, that was before.” The princess put a hand on her best friend’s shoulder. “Look down there and tell me that's not pure joy.” 

“That's called getting laid,” Mal replied stubbornly, crossing her arms. “He's done it hundreds of times.” But even she knew the difference at that point. 

The thief and the pup were  _ happy _ for the first time in their lives. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!   
> I wanted to continue to thank you guys for the amazing comments, as always they're the best part of my day! <3  
> There was a reference to the Seaside Festival in this chapter, which is from the third book: Rise of the Isle of the Lost.  
> And finally, I wanted to thank the tumblr user who actually made a moodboard for chapter thirty of this fic. It's beautiful!! (tumblr url: moodboards-i-guess)   
> Thanks for sticking with this story!!!


	36. Take it Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which swimming with clothes turns into swimming without

* * *

>   _“We jumped into water so clear and warm that it was like jumping from air to air. The sand rose up under us and we floated to where it met the sea and walked out of the water like creatures in an act of evolution.”_
> 
> _~ Elisabeth Eaves_

* * *

 Most island kids couldn't swim.

That was just a fact.

No one went in the crocodile infested waters around the Isle unless they were willing to make a deal with death.

Or, of course, if their mother was fond of drowning things. Cruella liked death by water for small, scraggly animals, and she certainly considered her son a viable victim. After witnessing her kick a starving dock cat - no doubt waiting for the scraps off the trash barges- off the pier and into the Monster Water, as Carlos had thought of it back then, he’d promised himself that he'd learn to swim. He wouldn't let Cruella do that to him, no matter how many times she threatened it. He used to imagine himself swimming far below the dock, maybe under the barrier entirely back before he knew there was no way around it, and being free of her forever.

“I still can't believe you taught yourself to swim,” Jay remarked as Carlos splashed around happily in the Enchanted Lake. The water was so clear that he could see his toes, and he floated for awhile on the surface, taking it all in. “The water on the island was choppy as hell,” the thief continued. “That was gutsy for a kid who considered himself a coward.”

“Even a coward’s gotta survive somehow.” Carlos still shivered sometimes when he thought about the white caps and the undercurrents and the dark shapes waiting to snap off an ankle if he wasn't precise with tracking their movements. “Why do you think I never got past doggy paddle?”

“Well, I figured it was the perfect stroke for a pup.” The thief gave him a wink, trying to lighten the mood. They weren't out here to relive the past, after all. Jay’s shorts were rolled up, and his legs dangled in the cool water, swinging gently.

“I could teach you to swim, you know.” His boyfriend sounded genuine. “The water is a hundred times calmer here. You’ll learn in minutes.”

“See, here's the thing, I'm not really in the mood-”

“It'll only be scary for a few minutes,” Carlos promised, pushing his wet curls back. “Just think, then you won’t have to worry about going near water ever again. It’s no longer an enemy.”

“I'm not scared.”

“Okay.” The white-haired boy wasn’t gonna force him to come in, but maybe if he gave his best puppy eyes…

“Don’t give me that face, Carlos.” Jay folded his arms, glaring back. “Don’t. Stop it… ah, fuck me, you're too damn cute.” He lowered the rest of himself into the water, still holding onto the pavillion securely. The water barely reached his calves, and the freckled boy smiled.

“See? Not so bad. Okay, wade out to me,” he instructed, paddling over to help. “You’ll be able to touch the rocks the whole way, just don’t panic.”

“I'm not.” But Jay didn't hesitate to immediately grab the hand Carlos offered.

“Remember when we went to Seaside?” the freckled boy said, smiling. “You said the mermaids were doing ‘water parkour’. Maybe you can learn some, too.”

At that, the thief brightened some. “I’d kill it at that sport.”

“I know.”

And Carlos turned out to be correct: the thief was incredibly adaptable, and picked up the strokes his boyfriend demonstrated with ease, having no trouble keeping himself afloat.

“I thought you said you only knew doggy paddle,” he laughed finally.

“I was trying to pick up some new strokes at the Festival,” the white-haired boy explained with a shy smile. “Maybe expand my range of skills beyond the aforementioned ironic paddle.”

“Dope.”

After another short while, Jay got a curious look on his face, one that Carlos sometimes got when he was weighing the merits of a particular scientific theory.

“What?”

“Huh?”

Carlos squinted at his boyfriend, coming closer, treading water to try and push himself up to eye level. “You have a weird look on your face.”

“Well…” Jay shook his head. “No, it's nothing.”

“Tell me or I’ll withhold kissing privileges.” The freckled boy’s jaw jutted out some like it always did when he was determined.

“Well,” the thief grinned. “I was thinking, these clothes are sort of weighing us down.”

Neither of the boys owned the special swimming clothes the other students sometimes talked about. They hadn't even planned on going swimming today, just on an adventure through the woods, and as it turned out, they’d found a perfect way to cool off.

Carlos could see exactly where Jay’s thoughts were headed, but he played dumb anyway. Sometimes it was fun to pretend he was innocent. “Huh?”

“Well, I'm just saying,” the dark-haired boy motioned to his soaked tank top and pants. “We should let these dry, don't you think? While we swim?”

“Still not getting it.” It was all Carlos could do to keep himself from giggling, and he was pretty sure a red flush was showing in his cheeks.  “You want us to…”

“Skinnydip,” Jay finished with a laugh. “Fuck off, Carlos, stop playing dumb.”

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” Carlos held up a hand. “But yeah, I’m in. And... I say we make it a competition.”

“Oh good, it'll be a no brainer from me then,” the thief bragged. “I always win.”

“That’s a false statement,” the white-haired boy laughed. “And I have a counterexample to prove it. Last week, I bet that Mal would complain about having to wear a dress for the End-Of-Term Banquet _before_ Evie complained about Mal complaining. How did that turn out again?”

“Can't remember.”

Carlos grin widened, and then he paused. “Wait, you still owe me money for that.”

“I left my wallet back in our dorm or I’d pay you now,” Jafar's son said smoothly, the corner of his lip turned up in an untrustworthy smile.

“How convenient.” The smaller teen splashed him again, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, de Vil.” Jay folded his arms. “What kind of competition did you have in mind?”

In reply, the freckled teen swam over to the rocks piled near the deepest part of the lake. Pulling himself out, he climbed up to the top most boulder and jumped, executing a perfect front rotation as he raced back towards the water. Resurfacing and pushing the water out of his eyes, he smiled at Jay. “Can you do that?”

“In my sleep,” the thief told him. “But you've rigged this. I just learned how to swim like thirty minutes ago.”

“This isn't swimming,” Carlos smiled just a little too sweetly. “It's parkour and air tricks, which you're better at than I am. So it's an even match. We’ll trade off coming up with the first move: if you can't execute a one - or you forfeit - you'll be forced to remove one article of clothing at a time.”

“You're going _down,”_ Jafar’s son promised.

“We’ll see.”

The thief was the first one to lose his shirt after a bit of a sneaky move from Carlos. While Jay was a master at dry-land movements, he didn't have enough practice to count for a splash, and as soon as the younger boy declared that it had to be small enough not to splash the rocks, he was doomed.

“Shirt off,” Carlos ordered gleefully, admiring the expanse of skin now showing. “Your turn. Watch the splash next time, that was pitiful.”

“Oh, I see.” Jay gave him a look that positively radiated cunning. “Dirty play, huh pup?”

He started increasing the intensity and height of his spins, deciding to jump off one of the rocks sticking farther out than the others from a handstand position (which was incredibly dangerous, but he didn't care. He'd survived worst).

“Nope.” Carlos took one look at the move and shook his head, already peeling off his soaking wet shirt. “I forfeit this round. Not doing that.”

As the rounds continued, the boys got increasingly riskier with their tactics. Both of them were certain that if Ben or anyone else from Auradon had been around to watch, Jay and Carlos would be dealing with several heart attack victims. What the people from Auradon didn’t know was that they had learn these moves jumping off narrow buildings and pipes. That their judge of distance and rotation was fine tuned to the highest gear. That risk spiked their adrenaline in a familiar way, especially when they knew the level of danger was minimal.

“Take your pants off, de Vil!”

“Gladly. Now we’re tied, I suppose.”

Jay laughed, shaking his head. “See, I would pretend to tease you about the pattern of your underwear, but since I threw those into the bathroom this morning, I can’t really act like I haven’t seen them.”

The freckled boy laughed. “And since you forget to bring underwear with you _every fucking time you shower,_ neither can I.” He pitched his voice to sound like Jay’s. “‘Car _los…_ I forgot again...”

“I do not sound that whiny,” the thief protested, folding his arms.

“Uh, yes you do. I live with you.”

The dark-haired boy flipped him off, wrapping his arms around him a moment later. Standing at the top of the rock, they both surveyed the water below. “So… next person who loses takes it all off.”

“It’s gonna be you.” Carlos leaned happily against him, turning to kiss the corner of his jaw.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Eh,” the white-haired boy teased. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” The boys tended to hang out in the bathroom while the other was showering.

“I’ll throw you off this rock,” Jay warned with false threatening in his voice.  

“I’d like to see you try.”

They resumed their game, but more than ever, they seemed to be evenly matched. Neither of them could seem to pull ahead in any way, the other always anticipating their next move.

“Shit,” Jay said finally as he reached the top of the rock again. “Can’t you just lose already?”

“Somebody’s eager,” the freckled teen mumbled under his breath, laughing as the thief raised an eyebrow. “Okay, how about we do it at the same time?”

“You mean lose at same time?” The dark-haired boy looked disgusted. “I don’t lose, and there’s certainly no point to us _both_ losing.”

“It’s a draw,” Carlos argued.

“No.”

“Come on, do you wanna see me naked or not?”

It did the trick. After a moment more of complaining under his breath, Jay finally caved. “Fine.”

“You’re so soft for me,” Carlos grinned.

“How do we know the other is going to follow through with the deal?” The thief avoided his boyfriend’s statement with ease.

“Honor code, I guess.”

Jay shook his head. “Neither of us have any honor.”

“Fair point.” Carlos shrugged, then stripped off his underwear. “Whatever. New game: who can take it off first. I beat you to it, so I win.”

Jay’s expression was a cross between thrill and fury. His mouth suddenly felt very dry, as his abdomen clenched suddenly.  “Well… fuck.”

In reply, his boyfriend merely jumped back into the water, smiling sweetly up at him.

The thief shook his head, still half in shock. Everyone who met Carlos seemed to think that he was _shy._ But that wasn’t true. He  wasn’t bashful or naive. He didn’t have innocence that needed protecting - his mother had stolen all of it away. Carlos was simply closed off. If he didn’t meet someone’s eyes, it was because he didn’t trust them. If he stared wide-eyed, it was because he was used to dirt and filth and was shocked that other things in life existed. And Jay realized that he got to know a Carlos that most people didn’t. A more confident, competitive one that ninety-nine percent of people would never get to see. And Jay, the thief who didn’t believe in luck, only raw chance, felt - for the first time ever - lucky _._ He felt lucky to know this boy.

“Are you coming in?” came the call from below.

Jay laughed, nodding, his underwear joining his boyfriend’s on the rock. “‘Course I am. Watch out.” Once he was back in the water, smiling like an idiot at the white-haired boy next to him, he laughed. “How did I get so damn lucky?”

“You don’t believe in luck,” Carlos reminded him.

“True,” the thief shrugged, still smiling. “But I didn’t believe in a lot of things before coming here.”

_Like love._

It was on the tip of both of their tongues, but neither of them let it slip.

 _Soon,_ was all they thought. _Soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not condone jumping dangerously off rocks (with or without clothes) as the boys are doing here ;)  
> Stay safe, my wonderful readers


	37. Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone starts talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the chapter title is a Shakespeare stage direction from Henry IV, Part 2. That is the reason "rumor" is spelled with a "u". ;)

 

> _ “Never judge someone's character based on the words of another.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Suzy Kassem _

* * *

 

Carlos had decided that Audrey was jealous. 

Not of him, who would be? But of Jay. 

He was fairly certain that she’d enjoyed herself a while back when the two of them had danced together at Ben’s afterparty, and since everyone had started arriving back on campus to get ready for the new school year, she'd been making much more of an effort to hang around the two of them. 

“Hey boys,” The princess called as she passed the picnic table where they were talking. 

“Hey, Aud.” Jay smiled back, throwing in a little head nod. Strangely enough, she barely gave him a smile, focusing instead on Carlos. 

“Excited about tourney practices starting soon, Carlos?” she asked, playing with a little charm bracelet on her wrist. Even from where he stood, the freckled boy could smell her perfume. 

“Uh - yeah, yeah, I mean, the reserve team isn't much of an accomplishment, but sure.” Questions about tourney were usually directed straight at Jay, and he wondered why this one hadn't been. 

“Don't worry,” she assured him. “You looked great at the end of last season, I'm sure you'll start some games this year.” 

“I keep telling him that,” Jay laughed, his grip on Carlos’ hand never faltering. “Maybe he’ll believe you.” 

“I can't help it, I don't trust liars,” the freckled boy joked, smiling up at him. 

“Oh, and she's telling the truth?” 

“Maybe so.” 

Audrey was frowning some, studying them. “Well, I gotta go meet up with Chad. His parents are taking us out to lunch. See you around, Carlos.” 

Again, she'd specifically called him out. Not Jay. 

_ What is happening?  _

“Why did she keep saying only your name?” Jay wasn't used to being ignored. “What's her problem?” 

Carlos was starting to rethink his jealousy theory. But if she wasn't pining after Jay, why else would she suddenly be so interested in the two of them?

 

**x/x**

  
  


“That bitch,” Mal said sarcastically when Jay explained to them what had happened, clearly uninterested. “How  _ dare _ she ignore you.” 

“Maybe that's her way of flirting,” Evie offered, her eyebrows scrunched in concentration. “Not a very good method, I must say. She should've at least thrown a giggle in there if she wanted to get your attention.” 

“Or maybe, shocker, she just doesn't like you.” Mal gave Jay a shrug and a shoulder pat. “It was bound to happen eventually.” 

The freckled boy expected Jay to get upset or deny the fact, but to his surprise, the thief only put an arm around Carlos and pulled him close. “Fine. As long as she's not messing with my pup, we’re all good.” 

The freckled boy bit his lip, his heart fluttering widely. “You don't care? You're not gonna go flirt aggressively with her until she notices you? Or take her purse and pretend to find it just -” 

“Hey.” Jay turned so that he was looking directly in his eyes. There was no joking grin, no unwieldy smirk. “I haven't flirted with anyone other than you since that kiss. How could I possibly look at them when I have you?” 

And when he planted a light kiss on Carlos’ forehead, not even Mal could complain. 

“Oh,” the smaller boy replied weakly. 

“In fact,” Jay straightened up. “I will go find Audrey, but I'm gonna make sure she knows that whatever game she's playing isn't going to work.” 

“Aw, you have a big tough hero,” Mal drawled, looking wholly unimpressed. A bee buzzed slowly around her hair, perhaps thinking it an especially purple flower bed. “Fuck off.” She swatted it away - and knocked it right into Carlos’ face. 

The younger boy cried out, clapping a hand to his cheek. 

“What? ‘Los, holy shit, what happened?” Jay was immediately on guard. 

“My cheek,” the freckled boy said through gritted teeth. “That bee just fucking stung me. Dammit, Mal!”

The fairy had the good sense to look regretful, joining Jay in inspecting the red bump that was sitting like an imposter among his freckles. 

“Carlos, I didn't mean to do that.” 

“I know,” he mumbled, waving them off. “‘M okay, ‘m okay, it just took me by surprise.” 

“Are you allergic?” Evie asked, pushing the other two out of the way and producing a pair of tweezers from her purse. “Let me get the stinger out, move, both of you.” 

“No, I’m not allergic,” the white-haired boy told her. “I used to get stung a lot, actually.” The bees and the wasps would sometimes make nests in Hell Hall’s attic, and it wasn't like his mother was going to get rid of them. 

After a few moments, the princess removed the tiny black stinger, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “We should go put some ice on that, okay?” 

Not to be outdone, Jay kissed his other cheek. “I'll get it.” 

The blue-haired princess laughed, shaking her head exasperatedly. “No need to be jealous. He's all yours.” 

“I know.” There was no hiding the pride in his voice. 

 

**x/x**

 

“Oh, Carlos, there you are!” Jane quickly pulled him towards an empty row of shelves. 

Startled, the freckled boy jumped. He hadn't expected her to do that. “Hey, Jane.” He kept his voice down, not just because they were in the library, but Jane also looked like she had some sort of secret.  

“Have you heard?” 

The white-haired boy quickly ran through possible newsworthy events that had happened since the time he saw her last.  “Um, that the school is adding on a few more science classrooms next summer?”

“No, no,” Jane’s voice was hushed and urgent. “Lonnie spotted Audrey and Jay out near the bleachers yesterday.” 

Carlos actually laughed. He knew just what his boyfriend had been doing. “I know.” 

“And you're not totally mad?” The fairy looked appalled. “I don't know how you guys do things on the island, but here, we emphasize loyalty.” Which was rather ironic given that she was implying Audrey was also cheating on Chad. 

“Jay wasn't hooking up with her, if that's what you mean,” the freckled teen informed her. “He was just talking to her.” 

Jane seemed unconvinced. “But one of the other girls on the cheer squad said Jay was staring at her the entire time she was practicing last week. And making some pretty sexy faces.”

Carlos thought for a moment, then laughed. “Was that on Monday? Because I just so happened to be sitting in the bleachers right behind them.” 

“Carlos, look -” and that was when she noticed his cheek. “Oh my goodness...” 

“What?” He frowned for a moment, then remembered the sting (it was still sore and slightly swollen). “Oh, I got stung by a bee.” 

“Okay…” 

The freckled boy wanted to ask what her problem was, why she was being so weird. “Jane, what’s wrong?” 

“Listen,” she shifted nervously. “Carlos, we all want to make sure you’re okay, you know? We get that you’re not like the rest of them.” And then she was hurrying off. 

Like the rest of who? His friends? 

_ Oh, honey, if only you knew how black my blood runs.  _

 

**x/x**

 

Whispers seemed to follow the boys wherever they went now, more so even than when they’d first started dating. 

Carlos in particular found that more people were coming up to him, but not to mock him or to ask him to do their summer homework. They whispered things like, “I’m here for you” and “you’re so strong”.  

“Okay, this is getting out of hand,” Jay said finally, folding his arms. “What is with everyone these days?” 

“Don’t look at me.” Carlos shook his head, mystified. “They’re acting like somebody in my family died or something, and if that were true, you and I would be celebrating ‘cause my mom’s an evil bitch.” 

“Weirdos.” 

It was Audrey who finally came clean. 

Carlos was sitting outside, waiting for Jay to return with food (i.e. chocolate). Humming softly, he flipped the page of his book. 

“Listen, Carlos, I’ve been trying to find a chance to talk to you alone.” She sat down next to him on the bench. “It’s been more difficult than I thought, you and Jay are attached at the hip it seems.” 

“Well, yeah.” He searched for face carefully, trying to find a motive for this strangely placid and thoughtful conversation. “I kinda like the guy.” 

“But does he really like you?” Audrey gave him a sad smile. “There’ve been reports of him checking out and sneaking around with a bunch of other girls lately, and we’ve noticed bruises on you. Besides… he seems like he might just, you know, be into girls. Maybe he’s just using you for a bang buddy.” 

The white-haired boy had to stifle a laugh. “Bang buddy? Is that the Auradon version of fuck toy?” 

“I’m being serious, Carlos.” Aurora’s daughter did look genuinely concerned, which surprised him. “We’ve all noticed that you’re the least evil out of the group -” 

“They’re not evil,” he interrupted. “Jay isn’t evil. And if he were, I would be too.” 

“I know, I know,” Audrey corrected quickly. “I meant in the beginning. We just don’t want you to get steamrolled by someone who isn’t treating you right.” 

Suddenly her cold shoulder towards Jay, and Jane’s reaction to his bee sting made sense. “Hang on, you guys really think Jay - is hurting me?” 

“Hasn’t he?” 

“No!” Jay had never,  _ ever  _ touched him in a way that was unwelcome. He didn’t use excessive force or make Carlos do things he didn’t want to. They wrestled and teased and taunted, but that was all. “How could you say that?” 

“I - I -” Audrey seemed to be at a loss for words. There was an odd expression on her face, and the freckled boy wondered if she’d kind of been enjoying the rumors and drama. Typical. 

“How could she say what?” 

The voice released all the tension in his chest, and Carlos immediately got up to hug his boyfriend. 

“Hey, Jay…” Audrey sounded a little nervous now. 

“That’s the first time you’ve addressed me in awhile, Aud.” Tact wasn’t Jay’s thing. 

“Everyone thinks you’ve been hurting and cheating on me.” Carlos voice was muffled as he buried his face in the thief’s chest. How could ever think that about Jay? Rumors about himself were one thing, and sure, Jay was aggressive when his life was in danger, but who wasn’t? And besides, he’d spent the last year protecting their group, putting them all behind him when danger struck. 

“Why the fuck are they thinking that?” A soothing hand came down to stroke the smaller boy’s curls, but the edge on Jay’s voice wasn’t lost on Audrey. 

“Well,” she bristled some. “For one thing, you’ve been looking at an awful lot of girls. And talking to them. Alone.” 

“Well, you were just talking to Carlos,” Jay countered. “Alone. And I’d be willing to bet you even looked at him too. But you don’t wanna fuck him.”

Audrey was grasping at straws now, spluttering indignantly, determined to find one tiny incriminating thing that would prove her right.. “Well… what about the red swollen bump on his face the other day?” 

“A bee sting,” Carlos cried out. “For the millionth time, it was a bee sting! Trust me, I can’t be his  _ ‘bang buddy’  _ if we’ve never banged.”

That shut her up. She stared dumbly at the two of them. “You… haven’t hooked up? At all? Then… why are you together?” 

“Cause I like his face and his laugh and the way he gives advice and understands without me saying anything,” Carlos said quietly. 

“And he's thoughtful and smart and funny as fuck,” the thief added. 

Carlos just put a gentle hand on his chest and shook his head. “Audrey, it's like asking why you date Chad? Do actually like spending time with him?” 

“Um…” She thought, then nodded some. “He can be really sweet, when none of his friends are around. And we do fun things, like having picnics and talking to animals in the woods.” 

“I mean, ‘Los and I insult each other and skinnydip for fun, but whatever floats your boat,” the thief shrugged, and Audrey coughed a bit. 

“I thought you -” 

“Yeah, he said skinnydipping, not screwing,” Carlos cut in. “We’re not prudes.” 

“You can make sure everyone knows it,” Jay added. “Just so long as you put an end to this idea that I’d hurt a hair on his head.” 

_ Look at that _ , the smaller boy thought to himself.  _ The scornful children from the rock prison just taught a princess bred for true love a lesson on it.  _


	38. Crown of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys challenge authority

>  " _Be the sun in someone’s dark sky.”_
> 
> _~ Matshona Dhliwayo_

* * *

 “Welcome!”

It was ten seconds into the new school year’s orientation and Jay was already falling asleep. Granted, he and Carlos had stayed up half the night before playing video games (he'd refused to sleep until he’d beaten Carlos at least once, okay?), but mostly, he was just in denial about the end of summer. Real classes were beginning next week, which meant he wanted to be spending every second he could outside, and not in some half hour debriefing about the classes he should have enrolled in and the readings he needed to purchase before the start of the year.

So, Jay drifted off almost defiantly, protesting the ever-approaching first day and tuning out the cheerful counselor who was going over supply lists.

_She won't stay so damn cheerful for long. Just wait until next week when she actually has to deal with students every day again._

Where the hell did the past three months go? He didn't want to be sitting here, he'd rather be exploring the woods with Carlos, swimming, playing tourney-  

Jay’s head snapped up as something hit his shoulder, and he turned quickly, looking for the perpetrator. A few rows back, Carlos was looking straight ahead, actively listening to the woman up front read every single point in the year overview.

The offending object turned out to be a piece of crumpled paper, and the thief unfolded it carefully under his desk.

 

_Pay attention, cutie. No sleeping for losers._

 

Despite Jay’s ultimatum the previous evening, Carlos had won their all-out virtual battle, and had subsequently brought it up at least ten times that morning alone.

“ _Carlos,”_ he hissed, turning again. “ _Carlos!”_

“Mr. uh-” he heard the professor call out, and there was a long pause when he realized there was no last name listed on the sheet. “Jay? Please face the front.”

The thief scowled and turned reluctantly, trying to ignore his boyfriend’s quiet snort behind him.

A few minutes later, another note bounced off of him and onto the desk.

 

_Somebody got in trouble…_

 

“I’m gonna murder him and his smug little smile,” Jay muttered under his breath, getting a very strange look from the girl sitting next to him.  

Another note:

 

_Don’t ignore me, handsome. Turn around. I miss your face._

 

No. He would not get the satisfaction of looking at Jay’s face until after class. Maybe later if he kept up this whole note flirting shit. He was just starting to wonder if maybe the smaller boy had read his mind or something when the next note landed.

 

_Stubborn, aren’t we? I wish you were sitting next to me. Think about the fun we could have    ;)_

 

Since when was Carlos such a tease?

 

By the time the bell had rung, at least five more crumpled up sheets of notebook paper were stowed away in his pockets (they were kinda cute, if a little suggestive).

“Like my little messages?” came the voice behind him.

“You're lucky I didn't out you,” Jay shot back, taking the freckled boy’s hand. “I could've let the whole class read your little thoughts.”

“Mmm, bet you would've liked that,” Carlos grinned, leaning into him. “I had to figure out a way to stay occupied. I already ordered all the required readings.”

“Carlos! Jay!”

The both turned and nearly crashed into the king who was jogging up to them.

“Woah,” Carlos backed up. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing serious.” He was panting, like he'd been trying to catch up to them. “I just wanted to talk to you guys at breakfast, but I didn’t see you.”

“About that…” the smaller boy blushed, remembering the one seemingly innocent good morning kiss that had turned into several, and he messed with his collar to hide the red spots on his neck

“Well, you found us now.” Jay didn’t blush even a tiny bit, surveying Ben with security his boyfriend secretly sort of longed for.

“I wanted to invite you guys to go apple picking,” the king told them with a smile, polite enough to pretend he didn’t see the marks on Carlos’ neck. “You know, to get ready for the Autumn Equinox and celebrate the first day of school and stuff. My family owns a huge orchard and a bunch of us go up there around this time. It’s fun.”

“‘Course you have an orchard” was Jay’s first reaction, and then he frowned. “Wait, apples… like apple trees? You pick them?”

Carlos nodded. “That’s how they grow, I think.”

Ben looked confused. “You’ve never seen an apple tree?”

“Nope.” The girls were just coming out of another classroom down the hall.

“Sorry, couldn't help overhearing.” Mal didn’t sound sorry at all. “And no. We weren’t exactly raised owning an orchard, now were we?”

“My mom used to save every seed she could find from the rotten apples sent over to us,” Evie said, sounding a little sad. “She’d plant them, but nothing green ever grew on that rock.”

“Oh my gosh…” Ben looked like he was in shock, something that usually happened when the Isle kids casually reminded him how hellish their lives were. “Now you guys have to come.”

“We don’t _have_ to do anything,” Jay retorted hotly, which made the white-haired boy laugh and shake his head.

“He’s not ordering us,” Carlos explained. “It’s an expression. Like… because we’ve never seen a real apple tree.”

“Oh, well then, fine,” the thief said. “We’re in.”

“Great!” The king looked thrilled. “Meet me out front in an hour, okay? We’re all taking the limo up.”

“Is there any time you _don’t_ take the limo?” the purple-haired girl asked, her arms folded.

“Of course,” Ben smiled, and they couldn't quite tell if he was joking. “Every once and awhile, we take the royal carriages someplace if it's a really fancy event.”

“Fucking rich kids.”

 

**x/x**

 

Who would've thought that red fruit growing on trees could make four people so excited?

Everyone else was enjoying the orchard, but the Isle kids?

Ben watched as Mal examined every single apple with mistrusting, awestruck eyes, as if the fruit might disappear in an instant. Evie looked like she might burst into tears as she danced from tree to tree, running her fingers along the low-hanging fruit, looking for the perfect one. Jay and Carlos weren't too picky about the size or shape - each piling as many as they could inside a red wagon.

They had never, ever seen so many fresh apples in one place. And growing, too, still on the branches. Living, growing, ripening fruit.

“Feel how firm this one is,” Carlos gasped as he carefully twisted off another apple.

“That's what he said,” Jay muttered, then laughed as the smaller boy punched his arm.

“You're fucking disgusting.”

“Excuse me,” the thief argued, stopping inspection of an apple. “Who was the one sending me little innuendos and suggestive phrases this morning?”

“That was flirting, and it was cute,” Carlos informed him, dragging the wagon to the next tree. “Now help me with this wagon, you lazy ass.”

Jay grinned and began pulling the wagon the smaller boy had been struggling with, barely breaking a sweat. Not to be outdone, Carlos proceeded to flip him off, then climb in himself.

“Get out of the wagon!” the thief laughed. “It’s not for you.”

“If it's so easy to pull, try it now.” The freckled boy smiled sweetly, settling himself among the apples. It took a moment and a lot of grumbling, but Jay finally started off again.  

“Hey you two!” Lonnie bounced over with a grin. “Um, I'm pretty sure that wagon is for - oh, I see, it's for apples and a Carlos.”

Nodding, Jay laughed. “Yeah, I suppose so. _Some people_ like to sit back and -”

“I will throw a piece of fruit at that empty skull of yours,” the smaller boy warned.

Lonnie picked up on of the apples next to him. “Oh, wait, guys you probably don't want this one. It has a small bruise on it.”

The boys turned to her, eyebrows raised. “And?”

“Oh,” she laughed quickly. “It's just, there are so many fresher ones. We don't need to eat these.”

“It's hardly even a bruise,” Carlos protested, wondering what the big deal was. “You're just gonna leave some of these because they're not good enough? I'm sure it'll still taste good.”

That's when Lonnie decided to drop it. “Oh, of course, take it. I'm sure it's fine.” And then she ran off to find Audrey and Chad.

“Do you know how much of this fruit could go to the island?” The freckled boy looked around at the mostly okay fruit that had dropped to the ground and been forgotten. “It's not even completely rotted yet.”

“It would rot more on the trip over, though,” Jay sighed. “Everything does.”

“Not if we got someone to ship a bin over today.” The white-haired boy was already climbing out of the wagon, gathering up some of other apples. “Help me, come on, I won't eat another apple until Ben’s agreed to ship these over and I see it with my own eyes.”

Jay paused for a moment, smile on his face, reminded again of just how much he liked this boy. The quiet, determined resolution he had to show these people that they could do more than simply pick the best apples off the trees.

“Aren’t you gonna -”

The thief cut Carlos off with a kiss, holding him close, resting his head on the other boy’s shoulder. “You’re a good person, Carlos de Vil.”

The freckled boy twisted some, trying to look back at his boyfriend’s face. “Wha - what prompted that?”

Shrugging, Jay held him tighter. “You’re just a really amazing human.”

“Sure I am.” The younger boy’s voice was quiet now, and he was blushing hard.

 

**x/x**

 

It took quite a bit of convincing to get Ben to even consider the idea.

“You guys, I just -”

“One basket. Please. It’s not like Auradon is going to use these anyway, and why let them go to waste when a whole island of people deserve fruit that isn't completely black and covered in flies?” Carlos pressed, his eyes pleading.

“Or maggots,” Jay added. He had no idea how Ben hadn’t caved yet for that puppy dog gaze.

“Fine,” the king said at last, trying to take the bucket they’d piled high with apples. “I’ll have them shipped over tonight, okay?”

But Carlos held on, his eyes narrow. “I need a written promise or some way to guarantee that.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust that they’ll get over by tonight,” the freckled boy told him honestly.  
“Because there’s an embargo and nothing’s been shipped over in months.”  

The brunette seemed to be at a loss, looking off for a moment. “How… how did you know about that?”

“We just do.” Jay tried not to imagine what life would’ve been like without the little relief the barges had provided. Sure, everything they brought was rotten or broken, but it was better than _nothing._ And winter was coming soon. Everyone would freeze without the old blankets Auradonians always threw away to make room for the brand new ones of the season.

“Okay.” Ben took a deep breath. “First off, you guys have to understand that the embargo was put into place because we didn’t feel it was safe anymore to open and close the barrier for the barges -”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jay didn’t mean for it to come out so dismissive. “So instead you sealed the whole place off. Who needs rotting junk from the mainland when you can just rot yourself?”

“What he means to say,” Carlos said, elbowing his boyfriend. “Is that people are starving. They need food, villain or not. Simple human rights, please. It's -”

“Yes.” The king finally held up his hands. “Yes, you can take those apples down to the docks when we get back and I’ll have the goblins take them over. Okay?”

“Okay.” And Carlos smiled.

 

**x/x**

 

It was gratifying to think about all the kids that might get something to eat.

Carlos watched the barge disappear into the night, its lights rippling on the water, and felt _good_ about what he'd done.

“That was pretty dope, dude,” Jay said, giving the freckled boy a sideways grin. “You fought for that hard.”

“You helped. It was a good cop, bad cop dynamic, wasn't it?” he laughed.

“You've been watching too many police movies.”

Jay wanted to explain to Carlos how awesome he was. How he'd stood up for something he believed in and made it happen. How people were going to eat fresher fruit than they maybe ever had because of him. But all the feel-good words jumbled up on his tongue and the only thing the thief managed to do was bring the freckled boy into a rough embrace and kiss the top of his head.

“Good,” he mumbled, his voice cracking a bit from the emotion. “You did really good.”

And judging from the way Carlos pressed his face into Jay’s neck and kissed it back, it looked like he understand everything the latter hadn't been able to articulate.

“I'm really proud of you, de Vil. Really fucking proud.” He shook his head, warmth spreading out from the spot on his neck where Carlos’ lips were still working. “Sometimes the good guys aren't always the good guys.”

“And yet they have the crowns.” The smaller boy stopped kissing him for moment and looked up at Jay with bright eyes.

“I'll steal you a crown,” the thief promised. “The best crown of them all.”

“Ok.” Carlos nuzzled against his neck, glancing out at line where the dark sky met the darker water, where he knew the island was hiding among the blackness.

“Someday we’ll be kings,” Jay said quietly, following the other boy’s gaze.

“I don't need to be a king,” he murmured back. “I'm okay right here.”

Inexplicably, a quote he and Evie had discovered by one of their favorite playwrights found its way into his subconscious:

_Heavy is the head that wears the crown._


	39. The City That Never Sleeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys do everything but go to bed

_“Life begins at night”_

_~ Charlaine Harris_

* * *

 The boys were nocturnal, according to Mal.

Or at least giraffes or something (Ben had once mentioned some weird animals that only slept in small doses because of their long necks, which had weirded her out at the time, but now kinda made sense). And staying up all night and surviving through power naps alone most definitely applied to Jay and Carlos.

She would find them curled up everywhere. Outside under a tree, in their dorms, hell even in class (that was mostly Jay).

“What do you guys _do_ all night?” Evie asked at lunch during their first day.

“Isn’t it obvious?” the purple-fairy smirked some, and both boys groaned.

“No, Mal. Not that.”

“I’m actually interested in the answer.” The princess folded her arms, looking at them. “You know, it’s not healthy to stay up so late. Whatever you’re doing can’t be that important.”

“Oh, trust me, Blue,” Jay grinned. “It’s that important.”

 

**x/x**

 

“JAY, I WISH YOU HAD A MIDDLE NAME!” Carlos roared out as his avator was knocked off the screen by the thief. “I NEED SOMETHING LONGER TO YELL WHEN YOU DO SHIT LIKE THAT!”

“Aw,” the thief teased with a grin. “I'm sorry you feel that way.”

“Seriously, man, fuck off.” The smaller boy groaned loudly as Jay got his first win of the night. “I had that.”

“Obviously you didn't,” Jay countered with a laugh. “I did.”

“Alright smartass.” Carlos started a new game. “Pick up your controller and show me it wasn't just luck.”

The dark-haired boy studied him for a moment, the corners of his mouth stretching into a smirk. “I think I'd rather kiss you.”

“Controller.” Carlos wasn't about to be swayed by his flirting. “Now.”

Video games were the only place they momentarily forgot they were a team. Or at least pretended to.

“C, it's almost midnight,” Jay noticed, not giving a damn about the actual time, just trying to preserve his victory awhile longer.

“I'm ignoring you.” Carlos started the round anyway, his fingers nimbly working their way around his controller, forcing the dark-haired teen to join in or forfeit.

And even when the smaller boy came out on top, it was almost worth it because Jay got a triumphant kiss as a consolation prize.

 

**x/x**

 

“You won last night.” Jay came out of the bathroom, shirtless as usual, enjoying the way Carlos stared at the low hanging sweatpants. “Movie or video games? Or both.”

“Hmmm,” the freckled boy laughed. “Do I want to crush you again or cuddle with you? Tough choice, really.”

Sitting down on the couch beside him, Jay planted a kiss to his temple, and Carlos automatically melted into him. “You smell like soap,” he mumbled, smiling up at him.

“I should,” Jay replied, amused. “That's what I hope I used in the shower. By the way, have you been using my shampoo?”

“Uh… which one is yours?” Carlos batted his eyelashes innocently, tilting his head.

“You know damn well which one is mine. Don't make me smell your hair.”

“Fine! Fine!” the smaller boy burst out, holding up his hands defensively. “But I swear, the first time was because I was out. And then… I kinda liked it so I never stopped.”

“That's why my bottle has been low.” The thief gave him a mock glare. “You're lucky I like you.”

“Am I?”

“Judging by your antagonizing attitude,” Jay gave him a pointed stare and tried to push him off. “I’d say video games are -”

“No!” yelped his boyfriend and he quickly threw his arms around the thief’s neck. “I wanna watch a movie.”

“Which one? If you make us watch La La Land one more time I might actually -”

“La La Land!” Carlos burst out immediately, causing the thief to groan.

“Carlos!”

Jay was met with folded arms and a pouty lip. “We’re gonna keep watching until you say you like it,” the freckled boy warned.

“I will never say that,” the thief refused, turning on the movie anyway. “It's a musical. And a love story.”

Still, as Carlos leaned on him, he could've sworn he heard Jay humming the songs under his breath.

 

**x/x**

 

“What will it be tonight?” Jay fiddled with the remote, looking to Carlos for an answer. “You chose last night, so it's technically my turn.”

“Can I braid your hair?” asked the freckled boy out of the blue. Jay’s hair was still damp, hanging in dark wet strands across his shoulders, and Carlos fingers were itching to play with it.

“Sure,” Jay agreed amiably (he was much more cooperative right out of the shower), scooting forward to let the smaller boy sit behind him. “I'll work on the solo round I haven't been able to pass.”

He started the video game and Carlos started on his hair, smiling.

“Jay, try using one lower destruction level, that way you don't destroy to platform behind you,” the white-haired boy observed. “Yeah, see?”

“Thanks, dude, I've been stuck there for ages.”

“No problem.” Carlos laughed finally, tying off the braid. “Your hair is getting so long,”

“Yeah, I know. My hairbands are complaining: they keep snapping.” Jay paused the game so he could turn and look back at the other boy, using his hands to feel the new hairstyle. “I like it.”

“And the band won't snap,” the white-haired teen grinned. “Because it's not holding all your hair.” Coming around and climbing into Jay’s lap, Carlos left a soft kiss on his nose.

When he started to back away, the thief raised an eyebrow. “You really don't think I'm gonna let you get away with just one nose kiss, do you?”

“That's all you get.”

“Don't make me tackle you.”

“That's all you get!”

Carlos found himself in a playful headlock, trying to shove the older boy off.

“Dammit, Jay!” he groaned, feeling his ears turn red from the thief’s pulling on the lobes. And then somehow wrestling turned to kissing, and suddenly Jay was on top of him, his hips rolling, and every part of his body was tingling -

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” There was the sound of the door banging open and there was Mal, her face bright with malevolent triumph. Carlos regretted ever giving her a key. Of all nights to spy on them.

“Shit.” Jay pushed himself up and off Carlos, groaning softly. “This is gonna be hard to explain.”

Both boys casually pulled pillows onto their laps, their faces flushed as the purple-fairy laughed maniacally.

“I SAID IT! I KNEW IT! E, GET IN HERE!”

There was the sound of heels on carpet and Evie burst in. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

“They lied to us,” Mal crowed gleefully. “They were on the couch grinding the shit out of each -”

“This was a one time thing!” Jay shouted, shaking his head and attempting to retrieve the controller that had been knocked to the floor. “We usually play video games or watch a movie, I swear to fucking -”

“Oh, yeah, you were gonna get to fucking alright,” the fairy interrupted. “If we’d left you alone for another few minutes or so -”

The thief rubbed his forehead, looking at Carlos sheepishly. It looked bad, he knew there was nothing they could say that would get Mal to believe them at this point.

“Okay, okay, Mal,” Evie laughed, rubbing her best friend’s shoulder. “Calm down, you’re gonna wake the entire wing.”

“I was right,” the fairy said again, resisting the princess’ attempts to pull her from the room.

“Yes, you were,” Evie agreed, taking her hand. “Let’s leave them to it, okay? Bye boys.” She gave them a knowing smile. “Be safe.”

“Well,” Carlos croaked out after the door shut behind their friends. “That was a mood killer.”

“One of these days,” Jay swore. “I will ruin a moment of hers, and she will regret everything she's ever done to us.” He looked over at the freckled teen carefully. “Do you wanna continue or wait?”

Carlos shook his head, biting his lip. “Maybe… maybe we just wait. Soon, I promise. I’m sorry.”

But the thief shook his head fiercely. “Do _not_ apologize, ‘Los. We’ll get there. I’m gonna go to the bathroom, and then we can head to bed, how does that sound?”

“Good.” The smaller boy still felt bad, but once Jay took him in his arms and kissed his forehead, ruffling his curls, the guilt faded a little.

_Not all those who have touched me treated my body like you do. Forgive me for my apprehension._


	40. Whispers in the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a message is hidden in the rustling of the leaves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY THAT THIS IS LATE!   
> Just a heads up: my posting schedule might be a little weird for the next week or so (my first round of exams are coming up). Hopefully I'll still be able to get a chapter up daily, if not, I really apologize. Thanks! :)

> _ “Scared but still dare to follow my heart”  _
> 
> _ ~ Ginny Toole _

* * *

 

“Come on, ‘Los, come to bed.” 

It was late, much later than usual, and still the white-haired boy sat cross-legged on the floor. 

“Carlos, please. He’ll turn up.” Jay sighed, staring at the forlorn little figue near the door. 

“No.” The smaller boy’s voice was thin. “I’m not going anywhere until I hear his little paws in the hall and I know he’s safe with me.” His fingers twitched nervously, playing with his small satchel of dog treats. 

Sighing, the thief slid out of bed and sat down beside his boyfriend. “He’s okay.” 

“You’re just saying that.” 

Jay knew he was right. After all, Carlos wasn’t some little kid who could be sated with  a comforting word or two. 

“What if something happened to him?” the freckled boy asked quietly. “What if he’s in trouble?” 

“Well…” Jay checked the time. It was hours past curfew, but clearly Carlos wasn’t going to sleep without his dog. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I already said I’m not going to bed,” the boy protested, his face set in rigid lines. 

“Who said anything about bed?” The thief held out his hand. “We’re gonna go find him.”

Carlos finally looked at him, his brown eyes flecked with concern and anxiety and  _ fear.  _ Jay hated it. But he let the older teen help him up, for which the thief was grateful.

The night air had gotten significantly chillier. Not cold exactly, but coupled with the pangs of worry, both boys were more than a little uncomfortable. 

“The woods?” 

The freckled boy gave one curt nod, tightening his grip on Jay’s hand. He’d already searched everywhere else on campus instead of going to dinner. 

Tall, dark shapes loomed out of the darkness, and even though Carlos knew they were just trees, he still kept close. It didn’t take much for them to turn into the sloppy shacks and strange rusty pipes of the island.

Where was Dude? Why hadn't he come home? He’d seen the furry dog just this morning! 

“Jay…” He tried not to let his voice waver. “What if… what if…” 

“Don’t even think that,” the thief said, marching along. “We’re gonna find him. He’s got to be out here somewhere.” He pulled out his phone, turning on the flashlight. It wasn’t nearly strong enough to disrupt the layered darkness, but at least they could see a few feet in front of them. 

“Dude?” Carlos called loudly, his voice breaking. 

“Gonna have to say it a little louder,” Jay coaxed, never letting go of the other boy’s hand. “DUDE! HEY BUD! COME HERE!” 

Carlos flinched at the sudden volume increase, but nodded just the same. He knew that Jay was right. 

The wind had picked up a bit, the trees bowing, and the sound of the leaves rustling swallowed their shouts after awhile. They screamed until their throats were raw and lips chapped. The dim light from Jay’s phone somehow missed a root jutting out of the dirt in front of them and it caught Carlos boot, his hand slipping from Jay’s as he pitched forward. 

“Shit.” The thief knelt next to him. “I didn’t see that. My bad.” 

But the freckled boy’s shoulders were shaking, and he couldn’t seem to speak. A few droplets had found their way through the canopy of trees and left cold little ripples across his arms. 

“Dude,” he gasped out finally. “Dude…” 

“He’s out here, he’s got to be.” Jay grit his teeth in frustration. “You checked everywhere else?”

“Mmm hmm,” Carlos hiccuped out. “Everywhere. H-he wasn’t there.” Usually, having a mission made the smaller boy less afraid. He needed a goal and he had a goal now, but it was turning out to be a hopeless one. The woods suddenly seemed too large and the night too dark; they weren’t gonna find Dude in time. Maybe he’d run away. Maybe Carlos had treated him wrong. “I-If only I had t-taken him to class with me today.” 

“We’d be warm and in bed right now, wouldn’t we?” Jay rubbed Carlos’ back some. 

“I just want him back. I never meant to hurt him.” Every branch snapping sounded like a dog barking. 

The thief’s heart twinged painfully. “de Vil, don’t you dare go and think that this is somehow your fault. You treat that dog better than most of us treat actual people.” 

“That's just because you're an asshole,” Carlos sniffed, the rain coming down a little harder now. 

“Well you're not,” Jay assured him. “You're a damn good friend to that dog.” 

It still seemed pointless to consider the search now, what with the rain pouring down and the woods darker than ever. So the boys just sat side by side in the mud, listening to the wind howl through the trees and wishing more than ever that it was a dog howl insead. 

“Dude was the first thing I ever loved,” the freckled boy said a while later. 

“Well,” Jay let his fingers trail in the mud some, finding notches in the old root still sticking out of the ground. “You must feel horrible. You’re the first thing I've ever loved and I would be beyond devastated if you disappeared.” 

There was a longer silence than usual as the words sank in. 

“Me?” Carlos blinked. “I'm the… you love me?” 

The dark-haired boy realized what he'd said and thought about trying to catch himself, but sitting in the dark, feeling the cold rain run down his back, he didn't have the heart to even try. “I guess it's obvious, isn't it?” 

Silence. 

“Hey, you don't have to say anything,” Jay assured him. “I didn’t really mean to say it either. You know, we should go back. Search again in the morning.” 

Carlos nodded some, pushing himself to his feet shakily. “Okay.” 

“It's lucky we spent so long exploring these woods this summer,” Jay said, offering him a hand. “We know these woods like the back of our hands now. Dude is lucky, too. He came with us on most of those adventures, right? I mean, remember when  ….” 

“What?” The smaller boy looked up at him. “What’s wrong?” 

“‘Los…” The thief’s eyes widen. “I think I know where he is!” 

“ _ What?”  _

Jay just took his hand and took off, pulling him along. He leapt over roots, helping Carlos jump over them too, sprinting through the mud and trying to retrace the steps he remembered taking. 

“Jay, Jay where are we going?” 

“Do you remember that one day this summer -” he panted, never letting go of Carlos’ hand. “- when I was being a dumbass -” 

He was waiting for the usual, “ _ you'll have to be more specific. You're a dumbass quite frequently,”  _ remark that usually followed a statement like that, but the only thing that answered him was the rain. Damn, his Carlos was really hurting inside if he wasn’t jumping on a perfect opportunity to take a dig at him. The freckled boy nearly slipped again on the unpredictable terrain, but the thief held him up. If that dog wasn’t where he thought he was, they might as well go back to their room. He practically dragged Carlos to the very edge of the woods, reassured by a faint barking carried in by the wind. 

“Dude…” Carlos head perked up. “That’s his terrified bark…. Jay!” 

“We’re going, we’re going.” The thief nodded. “Do you remember when I dared you to climb down into that rock quarry? And then you got stuck? And that dog practically tried to throw himself down there?’ 

“You think he’s down there?” The slightest flicker of hope licked the edges of the smaller boy’s voice. “How the hell did you figure that?” 

“I was just remembering the stupid things we’ve done,” Jay said honestly. “And I thought,’  _ if I were a dog that didn’t come home, where would I be? _ ’ And then I thought, ‘ _ probably stuck down a well or something from doing stupid shit with puppy Carlos’. _ ” 

That at least got a sort of laugh from the other boy (though it sounded suspiciously sob-like). 

“And,” the thief continued hurriedly. “It's muddy. That downhill patch would've been a nightmare for four little paws.” 

The rock quarry looked way scarier at night, what with the rain darkening the rocks and the mud sliding down the sides. Carlos immediately rushed to the edge, lying down on his stomach to see better. “DUDE!” 

He was met with an echo and an ecstatic bark as a very muddy dog attempting to climb up to him, nails sliding and clicking on the stone.  

“Hang on, bud, I'm coming. I'm coming.” He swung one leg over, but Jay caught his arm. 

“No! I am not letting you get stuck down there again. It took me a long time to figure out how to haul you up last time!  

“Go find one of those long tree branches then,” the freckled teen urged. 

“You're gonna climb slippery rocks in the dark carrying the dog?” Jay folded his arms, and even Carlos had to admit it sounded stupid out loud. 

“Well… I need to get him, Jay, please…” 

“Okay, listen to me.” The dark-haired boy put his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Take a breath. You're smart, so smart. Let's put that brain to use. Let’s not panic just yet. Dude is safe right now; a few more minutes won't hurt.” 

_ Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Idea!  _

“His jacket, he's still wearing his jacket, we can secure him with that!”

Jay snapped his fingers, checking his pockets quickly. “I gotta have rope, I swear. What thief doesn't carry fucking - oh wait, here!” 

Carlos snatched it up grateful, running it between his fingers. “Think it'll be long enough?” 

“Well, it was long enough to scale buildings back on the island,” the older boy shrugged. “Held my weight, should hold Dude’s.” 

“And then mine.” The smaller teen was already making his way back to the edge, preparing to slide down. 

“Hey, Carlos?” 

“Yeah?” 

Jay had the nerve to grin. “How about a kiss before this death-defying rescue mission, huh?” 

“Unbelievable.” Carlos shook his head, giving him a quick peck and a glare. “It's not death-defying. Just a rescue mission.” He carefully made his way down the steep walls of the quarry, nearly throwing himself on top of Dude when he reached the bottom. 

“More saving, less celebrating,” Jay called down, even though it was adorable the way that dog lived and breathed for Carlos. “Send him up.” 

The rope was carefully (and tightly) tied to the top of Dude’s handmade leather vest, secured so that the pulling was distributed throughout his body. 

“Good boy,” Carlos whispered, kissing his muddy head. “Good boy, stay still. Jay’s got you, and that means you're gonna be okay.” 

As the thief slowly began to pull the dog up, the freckled boy waited anxiously at the bottom. 

“He's up!” Jay called down, throwing the rope back. “Tie it around your waist. I got you too.” 

It was no easy feat clinging to rain-washed rock, but Carlos didn't have any other option. He helped the best he could, pushing off, hauling himself up and onto the muddy ground. 

“There's my workout for the day,” the thief panted once Carlos was safely resting far away from the edge. 

“Thank you.” Carlos immediately cradled Dude in his arms, holding him close. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

All three of them were muddy, soaked to the bone, and exhausted, holding onto each other for a long few moments, simply catching their breath. 

“Okay,” Jay said finally. “Let’s head home, shall we? My phone is gonna die and then no more flashlight. Although, the sun will be coming up in a few hours anyway.” 

“Wait!” Carlos pulled him back down, looking up at him anxiously. Pressing his face into the older boy’s neck, he whispered something so faint it could've been the leftover wind in the leaves. 

_ “I love you, too.”  _


	41. As Long as You're Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the fall musical proves to be a little too true for some people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT HERE'S MY APOLOGY CHAPTER! I know I didn't post yesterday (crazy schedules these days), but I have a feeling you might forgive me after reading this :)

> _“It's just..._
> 
> _For the first time..._
> 
> _I feel... Wicked!”_
> 
> _~ Stephen Schwartz_

* * *

 They’d all said no at first, for different reasons.

Mal had refused to associate herself with anything that involved singing, dancing, or teamwork.

Evie hadn’t been sure about balancing a real role having already agreed to do all costumes.

Carlos hadn’t wanted to be the center of attention (especially for singing, which he wasn’t great at).

And of course, Jay hadn’t entertained the idea even for a second, laughing it off like the funniest thing he’d heard all day.

But if there was one thing the people in Auradon were good at it, it was getting what they wanted. They’d slyly told Evie that she could practice lines while she sewed and once they’d seen Carlos dance, immediately offered him the coveted spot of dance choreographer - no singing required. Mal had been tough, but after a long round of begging from Evie, she grudgingly agreed to audition, just so long as she didn’t have to play a ditz. Naturally, Jay hadn’t given in, no matter how many times people begged, and eventually everyone was forced to accept the participation of three out of four.

The fall musical was underway.

 

**x/x**

 

“E, if you squeal one more time, I might cut your vocal chords out,” Mal said, looking up from her script.

Carlos laughed, finally easing down into his left split as he glanced up at the girls sitting side by side on the steps of the stage. “I have a funny feeling that they picked this show for you two.”

“What gave it away?” Mal raised an eyebrow. “The fact that they chose, _‘Wicked’,_ maybe? Explains why they didn’t seem to take no for an answer.”

“I still can’t believe they roped you all into this.” Jay shook his head at all of them, laughing. “What happened to saying no to stupid shit?”

“Auradon’s corrupted us,” Mal replied dryly.

“You’re still gonna come to the show, right?” Carlos blinked nervously, looking up at the thief.

“His boyfriend is choreographing the whole thing,” Evie reminded him. “He's coming whether he likes it or not.”

“Well, you and Mal are the ones doing the real work,” the smaller boy laughed shyly. “You know, ‘cause you're the actual _leads_.”

“It takes a team.” The princess smiled down at her script again, which made Mal roll her eyes in disgust.

“I don't know why I ever signed on to do this.”

“Because you're perfect for the role!” Evie laughed, smiling. “And because I wouldn't want anyone else playing my Elphie.”

“Sure.”

 

**x/x**

 

Despite Mal’s reluctance and overall grumbling, she did play a spot-on Elphaba. Her chemistry with Evie was undeniable, and all it took was one run-through to convince everyone of that, even the ones initially disappointed by the casting choices.

Carlos and dance were quickly becoming one and the same. He was constantly moving around at rehearsals, positioning dancers, blocking out numbers, stretching, demonstrating. And he was enjoying it (not just because he got to skip out on tourney practices, which was a plus).

The Isle kids were seamlessly incorporated into what Mal liked to describe as “Auradon’s only cult”. Headphones were suddenly blasting show tunes and everyone in the whole school seemed to have caught the bug for acting. Except Jay, of course.

“I never get to see you anymore,” the thief complained one night while he and Carlos were getting ready for bed.

“You could drop by rehearsal a bit more,” Carlos offered, dropping a kiss on his cheek.

“I stopped by twice today!” Jay gave him a look. “You know I have practice. I just mean, I don't get to see you around.”

“I could get you a part,” the smaller boy said craftily. “Even tech or stage hand…”

“Nah. I'm good. All that singing and costume shit would wear me out.” Jay shook his head, then grinned. “I do like seeing you in those sweats though. Everyone is raving about your ‘mad skills’.”

Carlos blushed, biting his lip. “I wouldn't go that far. I do like dancing, though.”

As they settled into bed, the freckled boy continued chewing his lip even after the lights were out. He and Jay hadn't talked much about the night Dude had been rescued, and more importantly, what had been said. He'd learned by now that if something wasn't addressed, it didn't mean that the thief had forgotten or tossed it aside, but rather the opposite: he was insecure.

So, taking a breath, Carlos nuzzled against him some. “Love you.”

Jay’s breath caught in his throat, and his voice came out wavering slightly. “Yeah… love you, too. Like a lot.”

The smaller boy laughed sleepily. “You really didn't think I forgot, did you?”

“I almost had myself convinced that I imagined it,” Jay admitted sheepishly, giving the boy in his arms a gentle squeeze.

“Talk to me next time,” his boyfriend breathed out. “Don't just let us fall into silence. Bring it up.”

“Okay.”

“Do we say it again now?”

They both laughed some, lying in the darkness.

“Sure, why not,” Jay said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

 

**x/x**

 

“I will not kiss anyone else,” Mal was growling when Carlos walked into rehearsal one day (he was a little late, but it was worth it getting to spend some time with Jay). They had one week before the show opened and tensions were _high._

“M, we don't have another option,” Evie was attempting to calm her best friend down, who was half in costume, clearly too upset to finish the makeup process. Her mostly green skin matched the emerald flashing in her eyes.

“No.”

“What if we say you don't have to kiss him?” Evie asked, pleading.

“I will not sing a love ballad to anyone else. I won't.” Mal was using the tone that made most kids on the Isle prepare to fight or run the other direction.

“What's going on here?” Carlos frowned, walking up to the girls.

“Ben can't do the show,” Mal hissed. “And they want to replace him.”

“But he's the male lead…” Suddenly, Mal’s outburst made sense. The fairy didn't want a new Fiyero, and frankly, he didn’t blame her. He had no desire to make out with any of the princes at the school.

“Why did Ben even agree to the show if he knew his king stuff might make him busy at the last second?” Evie asked, frowning.

“Same reason he still tries to do tourney, I guess.” Cruella’s son sometimes felt badly. Whose idea was it to let a teenager run a country?

“Well, we still need to find another guy to play the part,” the princess said. “The show -”

“To hell with the show,” the purple-haired girl snapped. “E, I don't wanna sing a love song to some -”

“Guys?” Carlos swallowed hard, lowering his voice so no one else could hear. “I have a _really_ bad idea.”

“None of your ideas are ever bad,” Evie laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, no.” The white-haired boy shook his head. “This is a really bad one. Mal... you want someone you’re familiar with for all the love scenes, right?”

“Duh.”

“Well… you've kissed Jay, haven't you?” Carlos waited for the word to sink in.

“Yeah, on the Isle, once during Dare or Drink.” Mal’s hadn't made the connection yet, too busy remembering the old island drinking game. But then, her eyes widened. “He won't do it.”

“If I ask him he will.” Carlos wasn't necessarily convinced of that, but he'd sure as hell try. “He’s actually got a great voice.”

“He's _your_ boyfriend.”

“And this is acting.”

“He won't do it,” Mal repeated. “I know Jay. He won't.”

“He’s helped you learn all your lines,” the freckled teen argued. “He knows most of the show by now. Give him this week and he'll be ready.”

“That’s irrelevant because he won't do it.” The purple-haired girl was absolutely sure. “Hell no, he would never.”

 

**x/x**

 

“Hell no, I would never.”

“Jay!” Carlos folded his arms. “You're a great singer -”

“For you! In private!” The thief’s mouth was set in a firm line. “I am _not_ getting all dolled up, I am _not_ getting onstage, and I'm certainly _not_ singing and dancing for the whole school and their parents.”

“Mal won't do the show if you say no,” his boyfriend told him. “Come on, please?”

“And you'd be okay with me playing her love interest?” Jay raised an eyebrow, and Carlos had to think about it. He didn't like the idea of watching the thief kiss someone else, _especially Mal,_ but it was just a play. He could handle it.

“Just as long as you kiss me longer when we get home.”

Jay’s fists were clenching and unclenching. “I won't… Carlos, I won't.”

“I'm not gonna make you, babe.” He purposely used the word to get the older boy’s attention.

It worked. Jay’s cheeks flushed a bit and he sighed. “That's not cool. You can't just call me that and expect me to submit.”

“Please, babe?”

“Carlos de Vil, cut it out right now!”

“Just think about it,” the smaller boy pressed. “That's all I'm asking. I wouldn’t beg you to do this unless it was absolutely dire. You don’t have to wear tights or do anything super weird. Honestly, you get to pretend to have been kicked out of schools and run away and do rebel shit.”

“That doesn’t sound _so_ bad.” Jay teeth were working in his bottom lip. “But no, no, I can’t, I won’t. Period.”

“If that’s how you really feel.” The freckled boy frowned, wondering what would happen if Mal quit the show altogether. Evie would probably quit, too because she wasn’t going to want be paired with some random Elphaba, and then they’d be dealing with two understudies and -

“Fine, I’ll think it through, okay?” Jay scratched the back of his neck. “Just get me a script, and I’ll look over it.”

“Thank you.” Carlos hoped the relief showed in his face. “Thank you so much. If you could save our asses, that would be great.”

That got a small grin from the thief. “I don’t care about their asses, but I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing yours around more.”

 

**x/x**

 

But the next afternoon at rehearsal, Jay was simply missing in action.  

“Okay, at this point, we’re gonna need to make some sort of announcement,” Doug kept saying.

“Give it a few more minutes!” Carlos begged, glancing at the door.

“Carlos, what are you waiting for?” the dwarf’s son sighed. “Ben to waltz in and let us know that he can do the part now?”

“I just have a feeling that something will work out if we just wait.” Jay wouldn't let them down, would he?

“Well, shouldn’t we at least tell the understudy?” Evie was making final adjustments to her costume, the blue tulle spilling out onto her lap as she stitched. She kept giving Carlos little glances, and he knew she thought Jay wasn’t going to show.

“Fiyero had no understudy,” Doug admitted. “Couldn’t find another guy that could pull it off. And well, we didn’t bank on Ben quitting.”

“Well, considering his attendance on most of his sports teams has been spotty thanks to royal shit, you probably should've,” came a voice.

Carlos’ face immediately lit up, and he’d never been happier to see his boyfriend. “You came!”

“Hey, Pup.” Jay gave his hair an affectionate ruffle. “I’m here.”

“Oh, Jay,” Dopey’s son was still looking slightly frazzled at the prospect of having to tell everyone about the king’s departure. “Listen, we’re all kinda busy right now -”

The thief ignored him, looking down at Carlos. “‘Los? I'll do this, okay? But… only for you. I'm not a singer or an actor or anything else like that. This is a one time thing. Got it?”

“What is he talking about?” Doug looked confused, his eyes traveling from one boy to the other.

“He's gonna replace Ben.” Carlos couldn't stop smiling. Jay hadn’t let them down, Jay had come through. “He's gonna be the new Fiyero.”

 

**x/x**

 

Carlos had to admit, it was a lot more _distracting_ to work on the show now. More often than not, his eyes were fixed on a certain guy working diligently through dance steps the freckled boy had designed himself. He would remind himself to focus every time he caught himself drifting, even though the thief made the choreo look better than he’d ever imagined. But unfortunately, it didn't help all that much.

“Like the view?” Jay smirked during break, letting the freckled boy know his staring hadn't gone unnoticed.

“I’ll like it better on opening night,” Carlos winked. “You're definitely hotter than our last dude.”

“Mmm, I dunno,” the thief joked. “Ben’s got a sweet ass. Your’s is sweeter though.”

“Would you two fuckwads stop talking about Ben’s ass and get over here?” Mal demanded. “We’re about to run act two.”

“Okay, okay.” Jay threw down his water bottle, giving Carlos one last seductive smile. “I’m coming, Dragon Breath.”

“Shut up!”

Opening night came sooner than anyone had anticipated, announcing its arrival with flying concealer sponges and costumes and mic tests.

“Listen to me, you’re gonna do fine,” Audrey was telling a panicked Jane in the hallway outside the girls’ dressing room. “You’ve been doing great all week!”

“I need more coffee!” Chad was screeching, waving around his empty travel mug like lightsaber or something.

Carlos was simply taking it all in as he stretched in the dance rooms, sitting on the floor. He took long, deep breaths, going over the numbers in his head, and trying not to give into the hundreds of tiny butterflies flying around in his gut.

“You ready?” someone asked.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Jay in full costume and makeup, leaning against the wall.

“Nice guyliner,” Carlos grinned. “You look like me back when I used to wear it all the time.”

“I still think you should go back to that,” the thief insisted, swiping the younger boy’s water bottle and taking a sip. “It was hot.”

“Maybe.”

“This is ridiculous.” Jay shook his head repeatedly. “I’m literally destroying my reputation the moment I step out there. It’s going to evaporate. Like that.”

“Who cares.” Getting up, Carlos wrapped his arms around Jay’s neck, careful not to get any foundation on either of their shirts. “You’re doing this for me, and I’m so grateful.”

“You’re hard to say no to,” the dark-haired boy mumbled, pressing a kiss to Carlos’ curls. The smaller teen brought his head up to meet his lips, and they stayed that way for a long time.

“Places in -” Doug had appeared in the doorway, and his face went red as soon as he noticed the Isle boys. “Oh, um, my bad. Sorry if I interrupted something.”

“Not a problem.” The thief untangled himself from Carlos, giving Doug a winning smile. “See you onstage.”

“Break a leg,” Carlos called after him.

And even though Jay had no idea what it meant, he grinned. “I plan to.”

 

**x/x**

 

 _I have a magnificent boyfriend,_ Carlos thought to himself as he watched from the wings. _Holy shit, he’s beautiful._

Jay certainly put on a show. The singing, the dancing, the muscles (hey, he was ripped and Carlos liked it). All during “As Long as You’re Mine”, the freckled boy’s breath was gone. Completely stolen away as he watched and listened and _oh hell._ He pretended Jay was singing it directly to him, and his cheeks flushed with warmth. Carlos held himself tightly, covering his mouth, tears picking his eyelids. He’d never been prouder of someone in his whole life.

_That boy is mine._

When the lights finally came up in the house at the end of the show, the white-haired boy almost didn’t believe it. How was it over so fast? Pushing his way past celebrating cast members, he congratulated everyone on their performance.

“Aud, you killed it,” he grinned. “Best Nessa in the world.”

Where was Jay? He could still hear the applause outside.

“Nice work, Doug. Boq would be proud.”

Not Jay, not Jay.

“Evie, you slayed! Have you seen Jay?”

Still in her wig, Evie was beaming back at him. “Thank you, Carlos! I think I saw him over there! He killed it, didn’t he?”

“Hey, Carlos,” Mal caught him by the arm, giving him a smile. “I hate to give Jay any sort of praise, but you made a good choice with him. He wasn’t half bad.”

“Thanks,” he said, still looking around. “Now if I could just _find_ him…”

And finally, his boyfriend was at the end of the hall, and he was hugging him and laughing. “Dude, you absolutely crushed it!”

“Damn, ‘Los,” the thief laughed. “Tight grip!”

“Can’t help it.” Carlos hugged him tighter. “‘M so proud of you. Listen, I know people usually get flowers on opening night, but I didn’t think you were a rose kind of guy, so I thought we should go out for milkshakes instead.”

“You know me so damn well.” Jay pulled out his wallet. “It’s on me. Your choreo looked great out there.”

 

**x/x**

 

_Kiss me too fiercely._

_Hold me too tight._

_I need help believing_

_You’re with me tonight._

 

Carlos’ lips tasted like chocolate, most likely from the milkshake he’d gotten, and Jay loved it. His hands, his lips, the thief simply wanted _him._

 

_My wildest dreamings_

_Could not foresee_

_Lying beside you_

_With you wanting me_

 

Carlos wanted him. When he closed his eyes, he could still see the lights of the stage, hear the hush of the crowd. Maybe it was just the way Jay’s hips were rolling, but he could still feel the pounding of the music.

 

_And just for this moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_I've lost all resistance_

_And crossed some border line_

 

Small assurances were whispered, tentative, questioning hands drifted. _Heat_ was licking carefully up and down, filling the space between them even when there was none to be had, burning up their bodies.

 

_And if it turns out_

_It's over too fast_

_I'll make every last moment last_

_As long as you're mine_

 

Little whines were interrupted by laughter and sloppy kisses. Soft chuckles and blushing cheeks and mumbled apologies before returning to the inferno.

 

_Maybe I'm brainless_

_Maybe I'm wise_

_But you've got me seeing_

_Through different eyes_

 

Carlos head rolled onto Jay’s shoulder, his skin scorching to the touch, his curls sweaty. He liked this, he really liked this right here.

 

_Somehow I've fallen_

_Under your spell_

_And somehow I'm feeling_

_It's up that I fell_

 

More, closer, don’t let go. That was what the thief was chanting in his mind. He needed all of this. It was so worth every second he waited.

 

_Every moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_I'll wake up my body_

_And make up for lost time_

 

Brightness, whiteness, blinding. And then more laughter as tensions relaxed. Kisses were pressed to foreheads, smiles exchanged.

 

_Say there's no future_

_For us as a pair_

_And though I may know_

_I don't care._

 

“Jay…”

“Pup, you okay?”

“Yeah… more than okay.”

“Good.”

 

_Just for this moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_Come be how you want to_

_And see how bright we shine_

_Borrow the moonlight_

_Until it is through_

_And know I'll be here_

_Holding you_

_As long as you're mine_

 


	42. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a word Jay keeps using gives Carlos pause

_“You don't love someone because they're perfect," she says._

_"You love them in spite of the fact that they're not."_

_~ Jodi Picoul_

* * *

 “Damn.”

Carlos was trying on the outfits Evie had just delivered, modeling them for her so she could see her hard work in action - even though it seemed quite possible that Jay was enjoying the process even more than the princess.

“Black, white and red aren't very many colors to go off of,” Evie laughed, making a few notes. “But I think I pulled it off okay.”

“Okay?” The thief resisted the urge to lick his lips. “You passed with flying fucking colors.”

“Calm yourself,” Carlos rolled his eyes. “Don't make me kick you out.”

“You wouldn't.”

The freckled boy winked, turning back to Evie. “I like the cut on this shirt.”

“Me too.” She nodded approvingly, fussing with it some. “It hangs really nicely. Can you turn for me again, hun?”

The freckled boy complied, spinning slowly for her.

On the bed, there was an audible sigh of happiness from the thief. “You look perfect, Pup.”

_Perfect._

Something felt off about that word, but Carlos couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was about it that made his skin itch. He’d have to think about it.

 

**x/x**

 

“That practice was hell,” Chad groaned as the team entered the locker room. “If he made us run one more wind sprint I think I would’ve quit.”

The others laughed, trying to imagine the prince walking off the field and turning in his jersey.

“Charming, you were leading the pack, don’t you play modest with us,” Jay laughed, stripping off his sweaty gear. “You and Carlos, damn, how’d you two get so fast?”

“Talent.”

“Dunno.”

Amir slammed his locker shut, calling loudly, “I swear, if all the showers are full again - I called dibs!”

“Don't worry, Jay and de Vil here will only need one,” Chad joked, shooting them a grin.

“Fuck off, Chad.” The freckled boy lifted his middle finger as an added bonus, which made his boyfriend crack up.

“You heard him,” Jay chuckled. “Hit the showers, Charming.” Then he gave Carlos a sly grin. “Although I wouldn't mind sharing a shower with your perfect body.”

There was that word again. Perfect. Carlos let it roll over his tongue, trying decide what it meant.

_Perfect._

It meant flawless, but he wasn't flawless. So why had Jay said it?

 

**x/x**

 

“If you leave your wet towel on my bed one more time,” Carlos warned. “I will open that window and throw it out onto the lawn! And then I’ll throw you out after it!”

“Chill, chill,” the thief rolled his eyes. “I'm picking it up.”

“Thank you.” The freckled boy was glaring at him, his arms crossed.

“Don't give me that look,” Jay laughed, hanging up his towel. “I'm gonna work on it, okay?”

Carlos didn't budge, his eyes narrow, until Jay tickled him and he cracked, laughing.

“S-stop! I'm still angry! I'm still - stop!!!” he squirmed, trying to keep a straight face for the sake of the argument. “Just leave your towel on _your_ bed!”

“I haven't slept in my bed in months,” the thief pointed out, still tickling his boyfriend mercilessly. “So really, your bed is mine now…”

“No!!” Carlos gave into the laughter, falling back onto the bed.

Jay followed him, grinning. “Oh, so, you don't want me to sleep in your bed?”

“No!”

“What was that?”

“No! I do want you you to sleep next to me!”

“Good. Because I like sleeping next to you,” the thief laughed. “You and your perfect white curls.”

 _They're not perfect,_ the freckled boy thought tugging on his hair some, his laughter fading. _Not at all._

 

**x/x**

 

“I swear, Mal is gonna get what's coming to her.”

“What happened now?” Carlos barely looked up from his computer, absentmindedly stroking Dude’s fur. Jay threatened Mal at least twice a day, it was old news by this point.

“She fucking punched me in the nose!” The thief’s voice was pinched, and this time, the freckled boy glanced up to see him holding his nose tightly.

“Oh, shit, dude, don't get any blood on the carpet!” He leapt up, grabbing a nearby shirt and pressing it to Jay’s face.

“I got punched and _that’s_ your first response? The carpet?”

“Oh, you're a big boy, you've been hurt way worse.” Carlos led him towards the bathroom anyway, having every intention of cleaning him up. “What did you do to make her angry?”

“Why are you assuming it was my fault?” Jay asked, holding his hands below his chin to catch remaining red drips.

“Because it usually is,” the smaller boy said, sitting him down on the edge of the bathtub. “Hold your head forward.”

As he retrieved cotton balls from under the sink, Jay studied him carefully. “Something's off about you. What's going on?”

“Nothing’s off.”

Shifting the shirt still pressed onto his nose, the thief shook his head gingerly. “No. I mean it, you're closed off.”

The smaller boy let out a long, shaky exhale. “I'm _perfectly_ fine, Jay. Let's get you patched up.”

“You look the opposite of ‘perfectly fine’.”

“That's just it,” the freckled boy finally snapped. “I'm not perfect, and yet you keep using that word. About me.”

Jay was taken aback. Of all the things bothering Carlos, he hadn't counted on that being one of them. “Damn, why didn't you say something before? I would've stopped.”

Carlos was curling his nails into his palms. “I dunno, I thought it would sound stupid… I mean, you think I'm perfect. But I'm not. And then you're gonna realize that one of these days -”

“Woah, Pup.” Jay tried to pull the shirt away from his nose, but the other boy pressed it back on. “I know you make mistakes,” he continued. “I never meant for you to feel like it was a standard or shit. I only said that stupid word, because…  I was just… expressing my admiration about you.”

“It's okay, I'm just overly sensitive, I guess.” Carlos’ face burned red, and he avoided Jay’s eyes.

“No,” the thief said seriously. “You're not. Words mean more to you than anyone else I've ever met. Perfect means flawless, and you’re not flawless, no one is. I'm horrible with words, and compliments and this flowery romance stuff. I was just trying to tell you how amazing you are. A better word would've been beautiful.”

“Beautiful?”

“Yes. That's what I really meant, not perfect.” Jay lifted his chin some, dried blood still caked under his fingernails. “Really.”

Carlos met his gaze, trying to find a single reason to believe the older boy was lying. Him? Beautiful? With his scars and his quick reactions and winces. “Your hands are still bloody,” was all he ended up saying.

“Seriously?” There was a hint of an incredulous smile on Jay’s face now. “I just made an incredibly sappy declaration of love and you're commenting on my blood?”

“You really think I'm beautiful?” Carlos chewed his lip.

“Yes.” The thief nodded, still holding the younger teen’s chin carefully. “Why would I lie to you?”

“You don't lie to me.” He never had. To other people, yes. To adults and other kids and every time they got in trouble. But never once had Jay seriously lied to him.

“I won't call you perfect anymore,” the thief promised. “It's not fair. That's a crappy Auradon principle. You do not have to be perfect.”

Carlos suddenly felt a hell of a lot lighter. “Okay. Thank you. I love you.”

The dark-haired boy's smile nearly split his face. “I love you, too. Now there’s blood running down the back of my throat, so let's get this taken care of and then we’ll make out, okay?”

“That's why I told you to lean forward,” Carlos laughed, starting to wipe up the blood on his face with a wet towel. “And I’m not kissing you if you taste like blood.”

“Yes, you will.”

“Yes, I will.”

_Nothing I haven’t tasted before, sweetheart, and this time, it comes with the benefit of your lips._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look who posted XD XD  
> better late than never, right?  
> Thanks again for your patience and your comments! You guys are great!


	43. All Grown Up (a long time ago)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which graduation is coming

> _“It is not the the bruises on the body that hurt._
> 
> _It is the wounds of the heart and the scars on the mind.”_
> 
> _~ Aisha Mirza_

* * *

 “Now there's a view that I could get used to.”

Carlos looked up, caught off guard by Jay leaning on the doorframe and smirking at him. The freckled boy was sitting on the floor with a soaking wet Dude, attempting to dry his fur with a hairdryer (using towels simply turned into a game of tug-of-war). And he was shirtless, which was probably why Jay was so excited.

“My shirt always gets soaked when I bathe him,” Carlos explained, keeping a firm hold on his dog who looked less than thrilled about the air blowing on him. “So I don't bother.”

“Your pants look pretty soaked,” the thief observed with a sly grin. “Maybe you should lose those, too.”

The younger boy blushed brilliantly, rolling his eyes. “You wish. I’m gonna finish blow drying Dude with my pants _on,_ thank you very much.”  

Jay raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got something else you can blow, and it won't try to get away.”

Carlos turned the hairdryer in the other boy’s direction, enjoying the way the stream of air lifted his shirt just a bit. “Please keep it PG around our dog. He doesn’t need to be corrupted by your intrusive sexual thoughts.”

Grinning, Jay just shrugged. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing, I’m fucking hilarious.”

“Humble, too.” The freckled boy turned the dryer back to Dude, cooing and giving him extra rubs. “Almost done, boy.”

“Have you ever considered letting him loose in the halls all wet?” Jay mused.

“No,” his boyfriend snorts. “He’d just get dirty all over again. You know how he gets right out of the bath, he goes off like a rocket, rolling around in everything.”

“Exactly, it’d be a scream.”

“Just help me dry the damn dog.” Carlos’ smile didn’t match his words.

With a lot of laughter (and a lot of air blown at each other), the boys managed to get their scruffy little animal clean. Dude seemed torn between acting betrayed and relishing all the attention from _both_ his favorite people, resigning to simply let out a short bark every now and then.

“Hey, Carlos?”

“Yeah?” The white-haired boy was surprised at the sudden seriousness in his tone.

“Nevermind.” Jay shook his head, a strand of dark hair escaping the confines of his ponytail and falling across his face.

“You can't just start to say something and then leave me hanging,” Carlos protested, pausing with the dryer in midair. “Come on, tell me.”

“I forgot.”

The smaller boy knew he hadn’t forgotten anything, but he didn’t push it. Jay would tell him when he was ready, whatever it was that was bothering him.

 

**x/x**

 

“Jay, did you download the new software update on your laptop?” Carlos asked, looking over at his boyfriend who was doing sit ups and stretches on the floor.

“No,” he grunted. “Not yet.”

“Here, it takes a bit, I can do it now.” But the moment the freckled boy reached out to open Jay’s laptop, the thief jumped up as if he’d just remembered something, snatching the thing away.

“Wait! Hang on… just a second… ” the older boy’s face was flushed, and he quickly opened it away from Carlos, closing windows at the speed of light.

“What the fuck?” The smaller teen was startled by his sudden reaction, backing up a bit. “Look, if you were watching porn or something, I don’t care -”

“No, no,” Jay shook his head, still looking a bit shaken, which was _very_ uncharacteristic for him. “I mean, sure, that sounds fine, I just, here. You can have it back now.”

“Jay.” Carlos folded his arms, searching the other boy’s face. “Talk to me. I'm not an idiot, something’s stressing you out.”

“It's nothing.” But the thief’s ears were bright red.

Carlos knew he could take the laptop, hack the memory, and with just a few keystrokes find exactly what Jay had been trying to cover up, but he wasn't going to, no matter how tempting. “The hardest part is saying it out loud, so just… say it, and then it's over.”

“No.”

Counting in his head, the smaller boy waited. If Jay didn't say anything by the time he got to ten, he'd drop it again.

“We graduate at the end of this year.”

Nodding, Carlos tilted his head. “I know. So, does that bother you?”

“Well,” the thief looked pained. “Everyone's talking about college and leaving and… I wanted to find a college that we could both go to… cause I don't want to split up.”

Carlos blushed some. “Jay… I’d like that a lot. Is that what you were looking for?”

“No… not exactly.” Jay shifted. “I got carried away and started looking… at apartments, okay?”

“For you?”

“For us. Like, together.”

The freckled boy didn't know what to say, his voice seemed to be gone.

“Look, it's weird.” Jay was scowling at the floor, turned away. “I know it's kind of ambitious and I shouldn't assume you'd even want to -”

“Hey, Jay,” Carlos grabbed his arm, forcing something, anything to come out of his mouth. “No, no, I’m serious - that’s - I never thought someone - yes! Yes, I’d like that a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, come on, show me what you found.”

 

**x/x**

 

“I’m sorry, can I please see Mr. de Vil for a moment?”

The whole class turned to the door where the headmistress was standing.

The professor gave her a small nod, making a little gesture with her hands. “Yes, of course. Carlos, go ahead.”

Very carefully, the freckled boy started packing his things, feeling the eyes of his classmates studying every moment. Why would he be wanted by the Fairy Godmother? What had he done wrong? Unhooking his ankle from Jay’s, he stood, giving the thief a quick, shaky smile.

 _Text me,_ Jay mouthed, and Carlos quickly nodded.

Once he was out in the hallway and the door shut behind him, Fairy Godmother motioned for him to follow her. “How are your classes going?” she asked as they began walking towards her office.

“Very well, thank you.” He studied her face, trying to find a motive. This obviously wasn't just a friendly catching up. She'd pulled him from class; this was something serious.

“Don't worry, you're not in trouble,” the headmistress assured him, even though he figured she was lying. She held her office door open ,and pulled up a chair for him to sit.

He did, perched on the edge and staring hard at the floor. The carpet was very blue, bluer than any carpet should've been.

“I wanted to talk to you about graduation,” Fairy Godmother announced, sliding into her desk.

Carlos nodded, unsure of how he should respond. He and Jay had already spent the previous evening looking at colleges and costs, trying to figure it all out. What else did she want to tell him about it?

“As you know, you need a certain number of credits to graduate,” the headmistress continued, staring at him with an unyielding amount of eye contact.

“Do I not have all mine?”

“Oh no,” she laughed, shaking her head and gesturing to a piece of paper. “You have far more than enough, and you're taking top level courses here. That's not the issue.”

Issue. So there was a problem, he knew it.

“My daughter Jane is your age,” Fairy Godmother continued, as if he didn't know that. “Your situations are quite similar.”

_How ironic._

Fairy Godmother was still talking. “And as her mother and her headmistress, I think that while she may be ready to graduate intellectually, I’m not sure that she's ready emotionally. She is going to be staying another year at Auradon Prep, just to mature. They don't hold your hand in the real world, you know.”

It was very clear why she’d called him in now.

_I hate to break it to you, but they don’t hold your hand on the island either._

He wanted to explain to her that he had “graduated” the moment his mother had put him in charge of retrieving food from the barges. That he'd graduated the second he'd been put in charge of cleaning the whole house. That he'd learned how to fix his mother’s wigs before he'd learned what the word ‘father’ meant. His graduation ceremony hadn't come with a diploma, but bruises and threats. Carlos had been emotionally independent before any child in Auradon.

“With all due respect,” he said quietly. “I think I'm okay with graduating this year.”

“I know all your friends are,” the headmistress said, her tone kind, but clueless. “But just remember, they're two years older. Your friend Jay -”

“Boyfriend,” he corrected her. “Jay is my boyfriend.” He was older than Carlos in years only. Being on the island evened things out in the end. “I've already worked things out. We talked last night. I appreciate your concern, but.. I'm okay.”

Fairy Godmother looked very disappointed in his response, as if she knew himself better than he did.

_Please. I know the voices in my head._

 

**x/x**

 

“What did she want?” Jay was looking Carlos over, as if he might have an injury. “Are you in trouble?”

“She wanted me to stay behind, here,” Carlos explained as they walked across the grass. “Instead of graduating. As if I’m not ready to be out on my own yet.”

“Bitch.”

“No,” the freckled boy sighed. “She's just oblivious.”

“We’re not going anywhere without you,” Jay promised. “Not Mal, not Eves, and certainly not me. No one left behind.”

And Carlos realized something right there.

_My family won't abandon me. Not my real family. Not the one I built._

And when he buried his face in Jay’s chest, the older boy rubbed his back, understanding, always understanding.

“You okay?”

_Yeah. I mostly am. Finally._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooo sorry that this is so late, guys!!  
> I promise, once my exam schedule dies down, I'll be back to our normal schedule!  
> Thank you for your patience!!!


	44. Designated Labels of Ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jay likes Carlos' name

> _“Names are not always what they seem.”_
> 
> _~ Mark Twain_

* * *

 “Okay, so… if I can get a scholarship here…” Carlos rubbed his forehead, staring at the spreadsheet he'd created.

Jay nodded. “And if I can get some coverage for sports, anything at this point will help…”

“We’ll still have to pay close to a full tuition if you combine both of ours.” The freckled boy’s eyebrows were scrunched in concentration. “If we both get jobs, maybe a part time during the day and then something at night… we’ll at least have some costs covered for the first semester.”

“What about books, though? And testing fees?” Jay chewed on his lip, studying the numbers that blurred so quickly in front of his face, wishing - not for the first time - that he had Carlos’ ease with math. “Have we looked at all the different financial aid options?”

“Like twelve times.”

It was all about money these days. How much their monthly expenses would be. Where could they find jobs. What they had to work with on a monthly basis. Meal expenses wouldn't be covered anymore, and neither would room and board.

“You’re gonna get a scholarship, ‘Los,” Jay assured him. “You're a fucking genius.”

“Thanks.” Carlos gave him a weary smile. “But so is everyone else applying. You at least have a chance to get some help, MVP and all.”

“Maybe,” Jay shrugged, twirling a pencil. “There's a lot of guys that come from better backgrounds, though.”

Leaning his elbows on the table, Carlos groaned softly. “We’re gonna get this. We’re gonna be okay. Everything is gonna work out.”

“Way to stay positive.” The thief paused to give his boyfriend a little smile. “We should take a break, we’ve been at this all afternoon.”

“We still have hundreds of applications,” the freckled teen sighed. “And studying for all those placement tests and I -”

“Pup,” Jay said firmly. “Put the pencil down. We’re going for a walk, a run, something. Gotta get the blood moving. It’ll help, I promise.”

“Jay - wha - ugh.” Carlos felt the other boy tapping his shoulder, gently trying to remove the writing utensil still clutched in his fist. “So much - to do -”

“Carlos Oscar de Vil.” Jay had never used his full name before the effect was instantaneous. Their cheeks colored, the pencil clattered out of Carlos’ fumbling hand, and Jay smirked. “Hey, that got your attention. And you dropped the pencil.”

Forget a walk, the freckled boy wanted a kiss. Badly. He stood up jerkily, stumbling into Jay’s arms and capturing his lips. They both staggered backwards, tangled together as they fell onto the bed.

“This - wasn’t- exactly what - I _meant,”_ Jay groaned loudly in between kisses, pressing right up against his boyfriend, certain words sounding suspiciously like whines. “When I said - take a - _break.”_

“Are you complaining?”

“Fuck no. _”_

 

**x/x**

 

“Hey, wanna come out and talk to me?”

The mound of blankets that Jay was talking to shook its head.

“Rough day, huh?”

The blanket nodded.

Carlos had come straight upstairs after classes let out and promptly disappeared under his comforter (Jay assumed the wriggling around also had something to do with Dude, who was no doubt hibernating with him).

“We’re studying Cruella,” came the muffled voice, dark and laced with something that sounded a lot like verbal poison.

The thief felt a twinge of hatred for the horrible name, his fists curling automatically as his vision clouded with tunneled edges.

“Count to ten,” Carlos said immediately from under the blanket, and Jay started the mental countdown they’d devised for when he got worked up. After a moment, when he could breathe again, the thief said, “what class are they having you learn about that _monster?”_

“Auradon Criminal Law,” Carlos sighed heavily and the mound sighed with him. “The unit is on inchoate crimes and well, she apparently fits the bill.”

The freckled boy hated having to look at her face and read her name over and over. He knew what she'd done. He knew what she was.

He got lots of questions, too. Curious ones, mostly innocent, but harmful just the same.

 

_Does your mom still hate dogs?_

Yes.

_Has she ever tried to make another coat from one?_

She would if she could.

_Did she ever tell you why she did it?_

Because she's insane.

_Do you think she'd want to make a coat out of Dude?_

I think she wants to make a coat out me.

 

That last one had been the reason for his silence during the remainder of the class, and yet, somehow, it still wasn't his breaking point. No, that had come when he'd read the judge’s bill declaring her unfit for Auradon, guilty of theft, animal cruelty, and illegal trafficking of furs. Carlos could still see the words plain as day, tattooed behind his lids. Unfit for Auradon, and yet somehow still fit to have a child.

_Mr. and Mrs. de Vil sentenced for life without possibility of parole._

“They were given a determinate sentence…” The words sounded much too technical, too organized to describe his mother and the one person she'd never ever mentioned except to insult.

“Who’s ‘they’?” Jay asked, and Carlos could practically see the way his face must look, all screwed up as he tried to anticipate the response.

“My parents.” Plural.

“Your… your dad, too?”

There was a soft sigh. Not a sniffle or a sob. It was much too late to cry over someone long gone.

“Did she kill him?” Jay couldn't help asking. That sigh meant Carlos was past losing it. The question couldn’t do any more harm now than had already been done.

“I dunno.” Sitting under the blanket, Carlos focused on petting Dude. “All I know is she made him take her last name, he was a furrier, and he lived long enough to make me.”

“And thank God,” Jay said. “‘Cause you’re my brain, remember?” Recalling the reaction he'd gotten before, he took a breath. “Carlos Oscar de Vil, I love you, don’t you go and forget that.”

A head of white curls peeked out from the blanket, and gold eyes met dark ones. “Why?”

“I just do.” The thief shrugged, wishing he were more articulate. “You're smart and funny and _Carlos.”_

“Why do you like using my full name so much?” the freckled boy asked softly, leaning into his boyfriend, still wrapped in the comforter.

“I like your reaction.” Jay put an arm around his shoulder, fixing their awkward position.

“Is that all?”

It wasn't. The older boy bounced his leg some, shaking his head. “And, well I don't have a full name. No middle name. Not even a fucking last name. Just… Jay.”

“Lucky you. You're free,” Carlos told him. “You don't have any last name to carry on or live up to. I'm jealous. I have to be reminded that I’m _hers_ every time someone introduces me. I will always be a de Vil, and a disgrace.”

“Well it’s not so great having no name either,” the thief told him. “No one quite knows how to refer to me ‘cause I don’t belong anywhere. On every list, on every test, I only write three letters cause that’s apparently all I’m worth.”

“Classic, we both want what the other has,” Carlos smiled sympathetically.  “You can have my last name, okay? You can be Jay de Vil if I can be just Carlos.”

The dark-haired boy flushed, his breath hitching some. If only it were so easy to switch names, just like that. “I wish.”

“Me too.” The freckled teen thought for a moment, nodding. “But you know what, I like it when you say my name. It doesn’t sound bad coming out of your mouth.”

Jay looked genuinely pleased. “Good. And you know I like when you say mine, no matter how short it is.”

Both boys ran each other's names silently over their tongues, and suddenly, words no longer tasted like poison. Neither of them said anything else for a long time, but they didn't have to.

_Sometimes silence says it all._

 

 


	45. Like No One is Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys attend prom and promptly make it their own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO YELL AT ME!  
> I have been SOO bad at updating this past week (seriously, five days, I need to get my act together). I am not only in the middle of exams, but also a move and just haven't had the time to update!! But enough excuses! Hopefully this chapter will satisfy your daily Jaylos needs, and I'm quickly working to regain my posting schedule!

* * *

>   _“He is both the source of my happiness and the one I want to share it with.”_
> 
> _~ David Levithan_

* * *

 “This school has too many dances. I can't keep track of them all." 

“For the last time,” Evie explained, exasperated. “This isn't just _a dance._ This is senior prom! A quintessential high school dream!” Her sketchbook was open on her lap, and she'd been booked with fittings all week, much to her delight. Every time Auradon decided to throw a party, Evie’s 4 Hearts stole the night.

Carlos snorted. “What's the difference between this one and Coronation, Castlecoming, Cotillion….”

“And why do they all start with ‘C’s?” Jay wanted to know, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn't make me wanna do them anymore than if they just had normal names.”

“I know something that starts with a ‘C’ you could do instead.” The freckled boy next to him batted his eyelashes, a tiny smirk at his lips.

Evie looked up from her designs, unimpressed. “Really? Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” the boys said together, as Jay pulled Carlos close and let his hand drift dangerously low.

“You two have a room, you know,” the princess complained. “Use it.” But Carlos thought he saw a little smile on her face as she went back to sketching.

 

**x/x**

 

For the first time, Jay didn't know what Carlos wanted.

All week long, princes had been surprising their dates with insane proposals. _Prom_ posals, Evie had said. Cheerleaders in formation on the tourney field, huge posters and flowers and chocolates and enough kissing to make Jay’s head hurt. He wasn’t a prince and Carlos was no princess.

_There's no way he wants any of that. Right? He doesn't want me to make a big deal in front of the whole school?_

“You look like you're in pain,” came Mal’s voice. “What's up?”

“This fucking prom thing.” He threw his pencil to the side in frustration, running his hands through his hair.  

“Ha.” Mal sat down next to him, catching the pencil before it fell to the ground and pocketing it. “I feel you. Almost more tempting to ditch and go find someplace with good drinks. Skip straight to the after-party.”

“I wish.” The thief shook his head. Carlos would never forgive him if he fucked this up.

“I didn't really peg you as someone who would be dreading this,” the half-fae frowned. “Parties are kinda your scene, right?”

“Until I got a boyfriend.” Jay was surprised when Mal rolled her eyes.

“It's just a stupid label, Jay.” The purple-haired girl shook her head. “You've danced with Carlos and hung out with him at every other celebration this kingdom has put on.”

“But this proposal stuff-”

“ _Prom_ posal,” Mal mimicked Evie’s loving chastising, and the thief had to laugh.

“I wish I knew what Carlos wanted.” Jay looked up at the bluer-than-blue sky. “Does he expect a big gesture or just something in private or maybe nothing at all?”

“For fuck’s sakes,” the other girl groaned. “Just ask him what he wants!”

“But Evie said it's supposed to be a surprise.”

“Evie also says that I should do all my homework before we go out at night.” Mal shrugged, winking. “She’s not always right. And don't doubt your gut just because these people feel the need to be extra.”

“Okay.” Jay thought for a moment. “Can I have my pencil back?”

“No.”

“Figures.”

 

**x/x**

 

“Hey, handsome, I brought pizza.”

Carlos came bounding out of the bathroom with his hair still wet to snatch the box from his boyfriend’s hands, motioning for Jay to join him at the table. He was halfway through his first slice before he finally remembered to take a breath.  

Lately, the two of them had been making an effort to at least eat dinner in their dorm together. Between school, tourney and all of Carlos’ extra projects in the robotics and science labs, they were starving for some alone time (and pizza, obviously).

“How was your day?” Carlos wiped his hands off on a napkin, smiling. “You had that test in fifth period, how’d it go?”

“Better than the one in third,” the older boy replied, trying to catch the grease dripping down his wrist.

“Speaking of third period, the choir interrupted my class today.” The white-haired boy passed him a clean napkin. “Another promposal.” He, unlike Mal and Jay, had automatically adopted the term the moment Evie had mentioned it.

“Speaking of _promposals_ ,” Jay grinned. “I wanna ask this guy, but I don't know what I should do. Any ideas?”

A faint pink colored Carlos’ cheeks. “Is he cute?”

“Oh, the cutest.”

“Hmm,” the freckled boy bit his lip, smiling shyly. “What if he's already been planning something for you?”

It was Jay’s turn to flush. “Oh. Oh! Um, what would might he be planning?”

“Surprise.” Carlos took another bite of pizza.

“What?!” The thief folded his arms. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“I brought you pizza!”

The smaller boy stood up, placing the empty box by the door and swooping in to kiss his boyfriend. “I know. And my stomach and I will be forever grateful.”

“Jackass.”

“I know.”

 

**x/x**

 

“Hopefully he’ll appreciate all the effort I'm going to for this,” Carlos told Dude the next afternoon, concentrating on cutting out small, heart shaped pieces of paper and laying them out on his bed. “We have thirty minutes before he comes back, okay bud? Think we can pull it off?”

Dude barked in response, and the freckled boy scratched him behind the ears affectionately.

“We’ll have to get you a tux, too, buddy. You’ll be the prettiest pup at the ball.” When Dude growled, Carlos immediately corrected the statement. “I mean the handsomest! Wait a minute, since when did you get so touchy about adjectives, huh?”

Gathering up the scrap pieces of paper, the white-haired shoved them in the wastebasket, carefully placing the heart marked with a neat number one on the bed, in plain sight where Jay was sure to see it.

“Watch him throw it in the trash on accident.” Carlos shook his head, and Dude gave him a knowing look.  “Alright, ready? Let's surprise the pants off our favorite boy.” He laughed as he realized what he’d said. “Yeah, actually that sounds like a really good idea.”

 

**x/x**

  


“Hey, ‘Los, I’m -” Jay stopped short when he realized he'd been talking to an empty dorm. “Fuck, he said he'd be home by now.”

The first thing the thief thought when he saw the white paper on his bed was, _shit a ransom note,_ which was stupid because ransom notes weren't shaped like hearts. The second thought that crossed his mind was much more logical at least. Carlos had said he wanted to surprise Jay with his promposal, hadn’t he?

The note was handwritten, which Jay appreciated tremendously. He knew how much faster Carlos could've cranked it out on the computer, but he enjoyed the boy’s neat penmanship.

“I know you tend to lose focus, so I'll try to keep this brief,” Jay read out, chuckling. Damn, his boyfriend knew him too well. “Find the next heart in a spot known only to a thief.”

How long had it taken Carlos to plan all this? Rhyming notes and everything? And why was Jay smiling so much? Auradon really was making them into a pair of absolute idiots.

_A spot known by a thief…_

Obviously, the thief was himself, and the spot - was the empty locker at the far end of the science hallway. For the first few months (and even a few weeks after that), he and Carlos had stored items not likely to be celebrated by the faculty in an abandoned locker.

Walking across campus, he tried to hide his grin, slowing his steps to an uncaring crawl. If anyone asked him how his day was going or what he was doing, the answer was fine and nothing. But inside, a secret little voice was cheering:

_My boyfriend is putting on an adorably sappy scavenger hunt for me, and I can’t seem to resist._

The locker code was the date they’d arrived in Auradon - which had been helpful on more than one occasion. Sure enough, when Jay opened the door, another note fluttered out.

“Ha, it took you that long?” he whispered, reading the new clue. “If I said you were weak, where would you go to get strong?”

It turned out to be the weight room. From there, Carlos had him walk to the dining hall, down to the Goodness Classroom, and then back over to the locker rooms.  By the time he’d found the note in the R.O.A.R. arena, Jay’s pockets were full of little heart shaped notes that were cheeky as hell.

“You think you’re so smart,” Jay read to himself, leaning against one of the practice mats. “We’ll see how the last one goes. Where would you go if we weren’t wearing clothes?”

Jay quickly put the note inside his jacket, hoping his face hadn’t flushed too hard. Carlos was a tease on paper, too. He supposed they’d be back in the dorm most likely, but hadn’t it just been empty? And it wasn’t like they’d ever stripped down anywhere…

 _The lake,_ the thief realized.

“Shit, Carlos,” he groaned aloud. “I have to walk all the way over there?”

Once he was in the woods, the thief felt his pace pick up. No one was around to see him, so what if he jogged a little? Luckily, as he came down the hill, he could see Carlos and Dude sitting in the pavillion, and… was Carlos holding a stopwatch?

“Hmmm,” the freckled boy grinned, hitting the stop button. “Fifty-seven minutes and forty-nine seconds. A little slow, man. I expected better.”

“Fuck off.” Jay helped his boyfriend to his feet, kissing him hello. “What was that all about?”

“I wanted to fuck with you for a bit.” Carlos bit his lip. “Did… ugh… did you like it? Or was it lame?”

“Lame?” the thief chuckled. “It was fucking adorable.”

“Dude helped.”

“Of course he did.”

“So…” the white-haired boy played with his hands some. “Wanna go to prom with me?”

“Let’s see…” Jay pretended to think. “Will you jump in the lake?”

“Sure.”

“Naked?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.”

“I wish you would.” The thief’s eyes were smiling brighter than ever. “But before you do… yes, I will go to prom with you.”

“Hey look at that,” the freckled boy chuckled. “You made your own little rhyme. Sex-driven, but a rhyme.”

And by the time the two of them made their way back up to the school, Jay’s shirt was on backwards and Carlos’ fly was half unzipped. No one questioned them, but they didn’t have to. Everyone already knew.

 

**x/x**

 

Carlos insisted on buying them both boutiners (even though Audrey kept insisting one of them should wear a corsage).

“We’re both boys,” he had explained, very confused. “Boys wear boutonnieres.”

Evie, too, had forced them to stay still while she fussed with their tuxes for twenty minutes, lint rolling the dog hair off Carlos’ with an exasperated, “really, Carlos, it’s barely out of the plastic”.

And despite his complaints about the formalities and the nagging, Jay was staring at Carlos with a smile through the whole prep, and there was a warm, glowing feeling in his chest.

“I know that look,” Mal said, elbowing him and following his gaze. “Oh god, you're so soft for him, it's infuriating!”

“What can I say?” the thief winked. “Look at him. Who wouldn't be.” As Carlos came over to him, the older boy ruffled his curls. “Hey.”

“Hey,” the freckled boy laughed. “Have you seen my date? Tall, dark, handsome?”

With a sly grin, Jay raised an eyebrow. “I don't know, can you prove you’re Carlos de Vil first?”

Carlos surged forward to press his lips to the thief’s, making both the girls sigh heavily.

“Come on, boys,” Mal ordered. “Prom now, fuck later.”

The banquet hall was the most over decorated venue the four of them ever had the misfortune to happen upon. The Isle kids’ eyes widened, and they shifted uncomfortably in their posh attire. Mal shielded her eyes from the lights, muttering under her breath. Evie chewed her lip, examining the ball gowns and sparkling chandeliers.

“You know,” Jay said jokingly, trying to break the tension. “I don't think they went all out. Those crystal punch bowls aren't even encrusted with diamonds.”

Mal nodded, suddenly standing straight. “Come on, you three. We can't just stand here gawking like we've never seen excess before. Let's go, let’s go.”

Jay laughed and offered his hand to Carlos with unneeded fanfare, mocking a bow the latter had seen performed by princes a hundred times. Somehow, even if the thief was making fun of it, the move still came off as hot.

“Oh, so you want a dance, huh?” the freckled boy grinned, taking the hand held out to him.

“Under one condition,” Jay paused. “No slow dancing.”

“Deal.”

Carlos was a good dancer, almost everyone knew that by now, even if he wasn't trying. For the first few songs, he and Jay goofed off, trying to ignore the awkward tension that seemed to be as big a part of the room as the fancy decor. They mouthed the words to their favorite songs, punching each other’s arms, trying to make the other crack up. It wasn't until the white-haired boy leaned down to re-tie his shoe that Jay finally whispered in his ear.

“Do you wanna do something that will really freak out the ‘designated chaperone’ over there?” The dark-haired boy nodded to Fairy Godmother scanning the crowd of teenagers, stationed right by the punch (probably to fend off anyone trying to spike it). It didn't help that her dress was practically buttoned to her chin.

“Yes,” Carlos whispered, flashing him a  smile. “Bring it on.” He felt Jay’s hands on his waist and grinned, abandoning all pretenses of “appropriate behavior”.

People around them started noticing, surprised at first and backing away to give them space. Carlos heard a whistle that was unmistakably Mal’s, and he sent a specific finger in her direction. He hated being the center of attention, and surely his face was bright red, but it was hard to be too embarrassed with Jay laughing behind him.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” they heard Fairy Godmother saying. “What is going on over - _boys!”_

Jay was smirking, and while he stopped dancing, his hands never left Carlos’ waist. “Hey, FG.”

“Jay!” she spluttered, her mouth open wide.  “Carlos! What- _this is an inappropriate use of the dance floor!”_

“Is that so?” Jay feigned innocence, his voice tinged with laughter.

“Why don't you two dance separately for now.” The headmistresses dabbed at her forehead. “As in, not touching at all. Goodness gracious.”

“Will do,” the thief assured her. “We’re very sorry.” Carlos had to cover his mouth so he wouldn't laugh out loud.

“Holy shit,” Mal said when Fairy Godmother had returned to her post by the punch (which Chad had now effectively spiked). “Carlos, that was insanely hot.”

“He's good, isn't he?” Jay rested his elbow on the smaller boy’s shoulder.

“Fantastic!” Evie laughed hard. “Just what this party needed.”

“I think Fairy Godmother would go into fucking cardiac arrest if she ever saw an Isle party. She stopped it before you two could even _really_ get into it”

A growing pile of shoes were resting along the walls, mostly heels, but some dress shoes, too, which meant everyone was dancing a little more freely - enough to hurt their feet. The night was still awkward, but thanks to the boys, some of the ice had been broken. Definitely cracked, at least.

“Wanna head out?” Carlos asked softly an hour or two later. A slow song had just begun to play, and he figured it was a good time to duck out.

“Uh- sure, one sec.” Jay looked around, lowering his voice. “I gotta break a promise first.” His hands returned to the freckled boy’s hips, swaying gently to the music. After a moment of surprise, Carlos rested his head on the thief’s chest.

“I thought we said no slow dancing,” Carlos whispered, a shy smile slowing growing on his face.

“We lied, I guess.” Jay glanced down at him. “This is okay, right?”

The white-haired boy lifted his head for a moment to look into Jay’s eyes. “Yes. Yes, it's okay.”

_Never been one for romance, but if this is love, I think I could get used to it._

_Maybe I already am._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again everyone!! I really, really hate having to wait so long to update, so I'm gonna try and write ahead so this doesn't happen again!


	46. All That's Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which money is tight

> _ “What good is money if it can't buy happiness?”  _
> 
> _ ~ Agatha Christie _

* * *

 

White light flashed into the room, illuminating it for one skeletal second. 

Carlos covered his ears as he waited for the deafening rumble that always followed. He wasn't scared of thunderstorms - the Isle was known for its electric weather patterns - but getting woken up by them wasn’t his favorite thing in the world. They were loud and sent his heart racing, which was a much too familiar and not exactly welcome sensation. 

Next to him, Jay groaned, his face forming a scowl as the storm pulled him out of his sleep. The thief was warm, he always was. Carlos liked using him as a heater when they slept, especially since his own feet were always ice cubes. “I just wanna sleep,” the older boy mumbled, trying to roll over. “Whatever absolute  _ moron  _ is climbing on the pipes at this hour…” 

“Not pipes,” Carlos said softly. “Just thunder.” 

Jay’s eyes opened some, and the sound of the rain seemed to register. “Hmm? Oh… dammit…. I thought they didn't have storms here.” 

“They would have to use magic for that,” Carlos reminded him. “And they have a weird aversion to it apparently. Except to keep a bunch of children hostage on a rock prison, that's apparently an acceptable use of it.” 

“Or to put up a barrier around a wand,” the thief added. “An invisible one that throws someone across a room.” 

“Still salty about that, arent we?” 

“Mmm.” 

A sleepy silence filled the room, interrupted only by the drumming of the rain, a rumble of thunder and the occasional flash of lightning. 

“Hey, Carlos?” 

“Yeah?” 

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Jay’s voice was still gruff with sleep, his eyes half closed. 

The smaller boy had to think for a moment. “The world’s a big place. I dunno, I wanna see it all. Anywhere except that godforsaken island.” 

The thief gave him a little nod. “Sounds good to me.” 

“Someday.” 

A few minutes later, Jay cleared his throat again. “‘Los?”

“Mmmhmm?” 

“What’s your worst fear?” 

Carlos laughed some, shaking his head. “What’s with these questions? Next you’re gonna ask me what the secret of life is. Are you high?” 

“No, fucker,” Jay propped himself up on his elbow so he could face his boyfriend properly. “I’m making midnight conversation. You’re not being very helpful.” 

“Okay, first of all,” the freckled boy pointed to the clock. “It’s like two a.m.. Second, fine, my worst fear is my mother, but you know that. And after that… you and Mal and Evie deciding you guys don’t want me anymore. Or… having to separate for some reason.” 

“Really?” The thief got a strange look in his eyes, made stranger by the white flair of lightning that decided to make its presence known. 

“Yeah, why’re you giving me that look?” 

“I’m not, there’s no look.” 

Carlos pointed at his face, which was pointless because it wasn’t like Jay could see his own expression. “Right there! Your eyes got all glassy for a second!” 

The thief shrugged. “Just the lightning, probably.” 

“Maybe.” Carlos didn't think so. 

 

**x/x**

 

Jay didn't usually pay attention in Advanced Goodness. Leaning back on two legs of the chair, an earbud in, usually looking out the window or doing some other shit under the desk, Carlos was familiar with it all.

And on the surface, today was no different. The thief wasn't even looking up front, his eyes fixed instead on the wall. Except Carlos wasn't easily fooled, and his perceptive eyes picked up the way his leg was still, how his breathing was even, like he was actually in tune with the lecture for once. And too, his phone lit up every now and then, revealing the glaringly obvious: his music was paused. 

“Jay,” Fairy Godmother had honed in on him, meaning she hadn't noticed his subtle signs of attentiveness. She never did. “If you were given the choice between an extremely valuable golden chalice or an afternoon with your friends, which would you choose?” 

“The golden chalice,” the thief answered without taking a pause. 

The headmistress’ mouth set itself in a line like it always did when she thought they’d answered wrong. She sighed, turning back to the board. Carlos didn't hear the rest of her admonishing, too busy trying to read his boyfriend. The answer surprised him for some reason. Would Jay choose valuables over an afternoon with him? Was that all it took? 

And then he kicked himself, cursing under his breath. They'd all lived in poverty. They knew what it was like to go to sleep hungry. Wealth over people shouldn't even be a question; people didn't always take care of you. And Jay had always bought his father's approval with trinkets. It wasn’t anything personal, just a fact of their lives. 

Carlos was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely heard the bell when it rang at the end of class. 

“Pup,” Jay said, making sure not to startle him. “Hey, Pup, the bell rang.” 

Nodding, the younger boy shouldered his heavy backpack and walked outside, squinting into the bright sunlight. 

“What a snooze,” the thief commented as they walked, trying to catch up with the girls farther ahead. 

“Yeah.”

Something in Carlos’ voice made Jay stop. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Fine.” Jay turned and kept walking. He wasn't in the mood to pry the truth out of Carlos today. 

“You said you cared about me more than money.” Even as he said it, the freckled boy felt stupid. He was selfish, so selfish. 

“ _ What _ ?” The thief turned, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. “Where the hell did you get that idea?” 

There was a familiar burning beginning at the back of Carlos’ throat, and he fought it with all he had. “Back… back in the rain that one day… you told me I meant more than all -” 

“No, no.” Jay came back over, waving him off. “Not that. I was talking about what prompted this conversation. Was it something I said?” Carlos mumbled something unintelligible at first, and the older boy sighed heavily. “What?” 

“You said you'd pick the chalice over a day with us.” The ground blurred at the white-haired teen’s feet. 

“Holy shit.” Jay had the nerve to laugh, but shook his head quickly. “I'm sorry, no, I'm not laughing at you. It's just, I meant I’d take the chalice over a day with you because I would sell it. And then buy us an apartment and send us to college and then I’d have more than just one afternoon with you guys.” 

Carlos looked up, wiping his eyes quickly. “Oh. I - I didn't…. you're stressed about money, aren't you?” 

The thief brushed a curl out of the freckled boy’s eyes. “You've seen the spreadsheets, Carlos, you made them. You're gonna get into the top programs in this country, you're a genius and don't deny it. But… I might not be able to pay to join you. And then… we’d be separated. So yeah, a golden chalice sounds really great right about now.” 

The smaller boy wanted to assure him that it would all work out, but honestly, how could he be sure?  They had to account for the other side of things, the side that always went wrong. The two of them seemed to draw the short end of the stick most of the time. 

“Carlos.” Jay looked right at him, making sure he could see how serious he was being. “I  _ hate  _ that money is such a big controlling factor in our lives. I hate that it could end up controlling where we live and how we live and who we live with. I want more than one afternoon with you. I want forever with you. I just… don’t know how to do that without money.”

“No, I get it now.” The smaller boy put a hand on his boyfriend’s arm to stop him. “I really get it. I feel stupid for making a big deal out of it.” 

“It's good,” the thief shrugged. “I mean, it helped, right? We’re clear?”  

“Is that why you've been acting sort of weird?” Carlos asked, remembering the night of the lighting. 

“I can't let something as worthless as money decide where the four of us end up.” Jay shrugged. “And… you said it was your worst fear to have us seperated.  I can't let it happen.” 

Standing on tiptoe, the freckled boy planted a gentle kiss on his lips. “So that’s what that look was the other night. Jay… I will go wherever you go. Wherever we as a group go. We’re not splitting up, we’ve come too far. And if we did, it wouldn't be your fault.” 

“Maybe. It's kinda my job, right? Money and shit is what I know best. How to make value out of something with none.” 

Carlos held up his hand. “Wait here.” And then he took off, his feet flying down on the pavement. When he finally came back into sight, he and Mal and Evie flanking him, the former running straight into Jay’s arms again. The girls hugged him on each side.

“Jay, money will not separate us, okay?” Mal’s eyes were steely green. “I swear it on every fiber of my hellish mother’s soul.” 

“And it's not just on your shoulders.” Evie smiled up at him, planting a light kiss on his cheek. 

“We're all gonna get jobs,” Carlos told the older boy, his arms still around his neck. “By the time spring rolls around, we’re going to have four sets of income. Sound good? ” 

Money had always been something the thief was acutely aware of. Gold, riches, trinkets. He could tell the worth of a watch just from looking at it or debate the merits of a wallet based on thickness and location in a purse. Money was hard to get, easy to understand: the more you had, the better. 

_ Whoever has the gold makes the rules.  _

Except, the three people around him were better than gold. Sure, they were more scarred than shiny, but Jay preferred them to any priceless metal. 

_ Wherever has the gold may make the rules, but not if you can find a team smart enough to thwart them.  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Two chapters in two days! It's a miracle! XD XD   
> I'm going to continue working on reinstating my daily posting regime! I promise!


	47. One of Those Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys help fight the demons

> _ “No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Charles Dickens _

* * *

 

On days when Carlos wondered what it was all for, he thought about Mal.

The way she never gave up. 

The way she always found a way. 

The way she wasn't afraid of anything it seemed. 

 

He thought about Evie. 

How she worked every day to ignore the horrible things her brain told her. 

How she forced herself to eat when she didn't want to. 

How she told herself she was beautiful when she didn't feel it. 

 

And he thought about Jay. 

Jay who loved him. 

Jay who smiled with one side of his mouth when he was trying not to be excited. 

Jay who was willing to walk to the ends of the earth for him. 

“One of those days?” his boyfriend asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed where Carlos was curled up. He got a nod in response. “Do you work tonight?” 

“No. Worked overtime yesterday.” 

They'd followed through with their promises to get jobs, and while money was still very much a weekly discussion topic, every little bit helped. 

“Neither do I,” Jay told him. “Fields are still waterlogged from the rain last night, so can spend the whole evening together.” He'd been helping coach the junior tourney league, which Carlos actually found really adorable. 

Still, a night off together sounded good, too. He sat up some, still wrapped in his blanket with Dude on his lap. “That’ll be nice.” 

Kissing his forehead, Jay climbed up next to him. “How is Dude liking all the other dogs?” 

That got a smile from the freckled boy. “Good. He really likes having friends while I work. The shelter has a bunch of dogs just like him. Abandoned and looking for a home.” 

Jay nodded, scratching Dude’s ears. “He has a home now. With us. And I'm gonna try and visit you both tomorrow. Practice is shorter than usual.” 

“We’d like that.” Carlos pressed his face into Jay’s shirt, inhaling deeply. 

“Just take it easy,” thief told him. “We don't need to be anywhere.” 

On these days, when his mind was especially loud, Carlos really liked Jay’s hugs. He didn't try to make him talk until he was ready. 

“Where do you think she is?” The question came out soft. 

“On the island.” Jay held the smaller boy to him, needing no clarification. He despised how Cruella still managed to invade their lives. 

“ _ I hate her.”  _ Carlos’ voice was choked. “And… I shouldn't hate her. She's my mother… all these people love their mothers… am I bad person? Maybe it was my fault she hated me….” 

The thief nodded, rubbing the white-haired boy’s shoulders. “Do you think Belle ever burned Ben with a cigarette?” 

“She doesn't smoke.” 

“But did she hurt him? On purpose?” Jay’s voice was steady and calm. “All Cruella did was give birth to you. Got it? She doesn't deserve your love.” 

“They say here,” sniffed Carlos. “That love is unconditional. Everyone deserves love.” 

“But some people are bad people, ‘Los.” The thief shook his head. “Your moth- Cruella is a bad person. And I don't want to call her your mother anymore because she wasn't. She wasn't your mother or your parent. She was… your abuser.” 

“She was my abuser.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments before Jay spoke again. 

“I’m proud of you. You came from a bad person, but you are not a bad person,” he said, still holding Carlos close. “Do you know how amazing that is? You're still here. You're still fighting. Got it?”

“Mostly.” 

 

**x/x**

  
  


Carlos could always tell when Jay was off. Sometimes it was little things, like extra aggression or shortness. Other times, there were bigger ones, like the way he’d return to their room with pockets full of stolen things. 

“It's just a stupid pen,” he’d mutter, staring at it. “Why’d I take it? Why'd I take it?” 

“Hey, I like pens.” Carlos would take it from him and smile. “And you stole it because you couldn't help it.” 

Today, Jay had knocked over several guys on the tourney field, which wasn't all that out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that they were all on his team.

“Jay,” Coach finally called out, exasperated. “Do not take the ball from your own teammate when they have a clear shot. Do you understand?” 

The thief just nodded, his knuckles white around the grip of his stick. 

_ He's gonna be benched,  _ Carlos predicted with a sigh. It always ended like that. 

Sure enough, the next time Jay took out the defensive wingman, he was put on the bench for the rest of practice  _ and  _ assigned laps to complete after the team had gone to the locker rooms.

When the rest of the guys were finally dismissed and heading to the showers, Carlos stayed back and sat down on the bench next to his angry boyfriend.

“Hey.” 

“Hey. Go ahead and shower, I'll only be a little bit.” 

Carlos smiled softly. “You know you say that every time, right? And I never listen.” 

Jay ran his hands through his sweaty hair, messing it up further. “Fuck… I just… fuck.” 

“Punching bag. After your laps. Then we’ll talk,” the smaller boy ordered. 

By the time Jay had finished his laps and followed Carlos to the weight room, he was in desperate need of the bag. He punched it so hard the smaller boy figured there was a good chance it would split at last. 

“Once you’re done beating the life out of that thing,” Carlos said, swinging his legs as he sat on one of the lift benches. “Wanna get some dinner?” He knew what Jay really wanted to do was vent, but he’d have to wait for him to initiate that. 

“Sure.” The thief’s words were punctuated by blows to the punching bag. “Fucking morons. This fucking world is useless.” 

“Specific instance or in general?” 

“Just everything.”  _ Punch.  _ “Everything has to be so hard! Like the world wants us to fail!”  _ Punch.  _ “I won't fail. I won't let it win.” 

“Babe, breathe.” Carlos held up a hand. “Just… punch that bag until you can't punch anymore. And just remember to breathe.” 

The sounds of Jay’s grunts, the smack of his fists against the plastic, and the rattle of the chain were loud, but the thoughts spilling from the thief’s mind to his fists were louder. By the time he wiped his brow and slumped against the wall, Carlos had figured out what to say next. 

“Life hasn't beaten you,” he promised. “Not yet, not you. Look at you. Look at what you've got.” 

Sweat was still dripping off Jay like water. “I need to keep us safe. I need to keep our family safe.” 

“You make me feel safe,” the freckled boy said, looking at him earnestly. “I mean, Mal is working in an art studio. Helping teach classes to  people with real paint on canvas and not spray paint on illegal areas: real art, not vandalism. Evie is hoping to double her sales by the end of the year, putting herself and her designs out there. Jay, don't you see? We’re getting better.” 

“We’re getting better,” he repeated, nodding. “We’re getting better.” 

And that was the part that no one else seemed to understand. That every time Evie went without makeup or ate extra dessert, it was a big deal. That Mal’s willingness (or rather, reluctant agreement) to legitimize her art was cause for notice. When Carlos was able to fight the voices in his mind or Jay stopped himself from stealing something, all tiny victories. 

And sometimes it was the tiniest victories that made the largest difference. 

 


	48. Not That Kind of Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they graduate

> _ “We were nostalgic for a time that wasn't yet over.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Nina LaCour _

* * *

 

“Just open it!” 

“No, no I can't!” Carlos laughed anxiously, running a hand through his hair. 

“Do it!” Jay was standing behind him, looking over his shoulder. “‘Los, if the rest of us got in, you will, too.” 

“No, not necessarily,” the freckled boy shook his head. “What if I didn't get the scholarship? What if they reject me?” 

“Then we’ll all go someplace else.” 

Carlos’ hand hovered over the trackpad, nearly touching down. “I’m gonna do it. I'm gonna open it.” 

“Please, Pup, I can't wait anymore.” 

The smaller teen nearly pressed down, but balked at the last second, turning into Jay and laughing again. “I can't!” 

“Want me to look for you?” 

“No!” There was a pause. “Okay, yeah. Just do it. Open it. Wait, wait, wait! Don't do it… I think….” 

“Too late.” Jay had leaned forward and there was a soft click with nearly made Carlos’ heart stop. He waited, barely breathing, his eyes closed tightly. 

“Just say something!” he burst out finally, his face still hidden. 

“Carlos?” 

The freckled boy was certain he was about to pass out, trying to detect any sign of excitement in Jay’s voice. “It's fine, it's okay,” he found himself saying. “I'll just apply somewhere nearby, it's okay-” 

“Carlos!” The thief hugged him tighter, lifting him up off the ground. “You made it!” 

“What?” 

“You made it! You got in!” 

“I did?” Carlos lifted his head off the older boy’s shoulder to make sure he wasn't messing with him. “This isn't a joke?” 

“Why would I joke about this?” Jay ruffled his curls, laughing. “I don't even know why we were worried. Out of all the people to be banking on, we were lucky it was you and not, like, Mal. Eves had to practically beg her to get her apps in on time.” 

“I got the scholarship?” The white-haired boy couldn't seem to get past it, couldn't seem to ask any other question. “I… got it?” 

“Yes! Yes, Carlos! Yes you did! Fuck, man, you did it!” Jay pounded his shoulder, grinning. 

“I did it…” The freckled boy’s face slowly lit up. “I did it! Jay, I got it!” 

They both felt an enormous sense of relief, rolling off them in waves. Weeks of stress and resumes and spreadsheets all  _ meaning  _ something, all worth something. 

_ We’re gonna stay together,  _ Carlos realized. “Jay… we’re gonna stay together!” 

“Yeah,” Jay kissed his forehead. “We gotta text the girls, they’ll be thrilled.” 

“Yeah.” The younger boy smiled up at him for a moment before closing the distance between their lips. 

_ In a moment. We’ll text them in a moment.  _

 

**x/x**

 

“Okay, this is a dress,” Jay said for the hundredth time, messing with his blue graduation gown. “This is most definitely a dress.” 

“Not a dress.” Carlos shook his head. “A robe, dude. There's a difference.” 

At the sound of his name, Dude trotted over to the boys in front of the mirror, wagging his tail. His own mini graduation gown was perfectly tailored to his little body. 

“Does he have a hat, too?” the thief asked, amused. 

“Jay, don't be silly.” The freckled boy reached  into the bag Evie had sent over and pulled out a square little mortarboard, topped off with little clips and ear holes to hold it in place. “It's a cap.” 

“Same thing.” 

“No, they have different connotations,” Carlos chided, fastening the cap onto Dude’s little head. By now the small dog had grown used to the clothes, even if he still shook off the headpieces every now and then. 

“Details, details,” Jay grinned. “I'm graduating today, I’m out, no more connotations or quadratics or compounds.” 

“Until college starts.” 

The older boy sufficed to shut Carlos up by wrestling him to the ground. They rolled around, laughing and mocking each other, until the opening of their door nearly smashed Jay in the head. 

“Watch it!” he cried, still positioned over Carlos. 

Mal, who'd just walked in with Evie, didn't look put out in the slightest. “You know, when we come in and see you guys like this, I don't know whether you've been wrestling or making out.” 

“Usually both,” Carlos offered, still wedged underneath his boyfriend. 

“Your gowns!” Evie rushed to pull them up. “Boys, honestly!” 

They brushed them off the best they could as the princess hurriedly smoothed the robes down, muttering something about careless children and wild animals. 

“So.” Carlos folded his hands nervously once she'd finished berating them. “This is it, huh?” 

Jay slung an arm over his shoulder. “Yeah. We got this, though. It's the easiest part.” 

“You scared?” Mal raised an eyebrow, challenging the thief. 

“No,” he answered automatically. “But it's okay if you are.” 

He got a finger in response. 

“I'm not quite ready to say goodbye,” Evie mused softly, running her finger along the wall of the boy’s dorm. 

“Hey, hey,” the freckled boy said. “We still have a couple months before we actually leave. This isn't goodbye just yet.” 

_ Not yet.  _

 

**x/x**

 

Crowds weren't Carlos’ thing. Nor was walking alone up to a stage. But he had to admit, no matter how much his hands had shaken while standing up there, there was an overwhelming sense of accomplishment once he’d made it across. 

“Glad that's over?” Jay gave him a smile. “Now we can go celebrate.” 

“Celebrate, huh?” Carlos studied his face. There were several different things when he meant when he said “celebrate”. 

“Yeah.” The thief winked, kissing his temple. 

“You have a horrible case of hat-hair,” the freckled boy smirked back. 

“I thought you said it was a cap.” 

“Ha, ha.” 

They strolled across the grass, the girls a few steps away. Family members swarmed the campus like insects or something, fanning out across the lawns and courtyards. Grandparents, siblings, parents all armed with cameras and flowers and cards (it took a lot of concentration and a few squeezes from Carlos to Jay’s hands from wandering into bags and gift baskets). 

The Isle kids didn't have any fancy presents or huge families smiling proudly, but they didn't need it. Not really. 

“Smile,” Evie called happily, turning back to the boys with her phone. “Just a few more…” 

“We’re good!” Jay laughed. “No more pictures!” 

“I wanna remember this!” the princess protested, turning the camera on Mal who growled and hid her face. 

“We will, Eves,” the thief promised. “How could we ever forget? I mean, there were times when we doubted whether Mal would make it.” His face broke into a grin, waiting for her reaction. 

“Excuse me!” The purple-haired girl folded her arms indignantly. “What about you, Mr. Too-Cool-For-Class?” 

“Chill, chill.” Jay held up his hands. “It was a joke!” 

Carlos couldn't stop smiling, his eyes wide and bright. He bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, looking around in pure awe. They'd made it. They'd done it. 

Jay took one look at his boyfriend and sighed happily, admiring how happy he looked. 

“Why are you staring?” The white-haired boy ducked his head shyly, and Dude yipped his agreement. 

“‘Cause.” The older teen shrugged. “You're kinda cute, you know.” 

“Am I?” 

“Yup.” 

“Okay, okay.” Evie was waving her phone around again. “One more picture, one with all four of us, then I'll be done!” 

The other three grumbled, but agreed to form a sort of line anyway because it was Evie, because it was their day, because they were proud of each other. Jay pulled Carlos in for a kiss, Mal punched both of them, and Evie laughed until she cried. 

Later that evening, when Carlos studied the picture on his phone in the dark, he couldn't help smiling all over again, reliving the glorious feeling. 

How was it possible? How was all of this real? 

The freckled boy pinched himself, just to make sure it wasn't some sort of drawn-out dream, half expecting to wake up back in that miserable closet. But he didn't, nothing faded, nothing changed. Glancing over, he saw Jay still asleep beside him, felt the older boy’s arms wrapped gently around his waist. 

“ _ I love you,”  _ Carlos whispered fondly, just like he always did. 

And just like always, the thief’s mouth twitched into a crooked half smile. 

_ Always.  _

_ When did always turn into such a good thing?  _

 


	49. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys mull over things under a canopy of lightning bugs

> _"The fireflies flew up into the sky, free._
> 
> _I watched them until I could no longer tell them apart from the stars.”_
> 
> _~ Paul Pen_

* * *

 

The best part of getting off from work for Jay was checking his phone to see if Carlos had texted.

Well, second best. The first was actually _seeing_ him.

And today, by the time he'd shouldered the equipment bags and all the kids had been picked up, Carlos had already texted twice - the little notifications blinking happily on his screen.

 

_Meet me at the entrance to the woods when you get off._

 

and

 

_I've got food._

 

The thief chuckled, shaking his head. Carlos always had his priorities straight. Most of their texts were either about food, which was fine by Jay, or incredibly dirty - which was also just fine by Jay. He liked any conversation with Carlos - virtual or otherwise - and it wasn’t like they were immune to the hormone-wrought topics of teenagers (young adults, Carlos would’ve say. Not teens anymore).

After shooting a quick okay to his boyfriend, the thief ran home to shower and change, glued to the screen the entire time to assure Carlos that yes, he was coming, and yes, he was hurrying, and no, he wasn’t getting sidetracked. Still, by the time he made it to the woods, it was mostly dark - the last few rays of golden summer sun faded to orange and then black above him.

“Hey, stranger,” he called, picking out a familiar silhouette seated on a tree stump.

“Jay!” Carlos stood up, throwing his arms around the thief’s neck and kissing his cheek lightly. “How was work?”

“Not too bad.” The dark-haired boy smiled, giving the freckled boy a shrug. “I’m starving, though.”

“Well,” Carlos said as they started walking along the path, reaching for Jay’s hand as he held up the plastic bag in his other. ““Isn’t it great that you have the best boyfriend in the world? Who goes and picks up takeout for both of us?”

“I’m certainly not complaining.”

The boys walked arm in arm to their favorite spot, the same place Carlos liked to watch the sunrise.

“Why the woods tonight?” the thief asked as they sat down on the log and pulled white cartons of food from the bag.

Even in the fading light, Carlos’ cheeks flushed. “No reason.”

“Oh, come on.” Already, Jay’s mouth was stuffed with food. “There has to be a reason. This past week we’ve talked about getting out of the dorm for dinner and then ended up ordering pizza and collapsing on our bed every time without fail.”

“That’s why it’s good we got out.” The white-haired boy passed his boyfriend a napkin, which the latter accepted.

“That didn’t answer my question.”

But as it turned out, Jay didn’t have to wait much longer. As the darkness fell, there was a gradual flickering of yellow in the trees. One blinking light here, another there, until the trees were alive with tiny, drifting stars.

“The hell…” Jay said softly, not trusting his voice to speak any louder.

“Fireflies.” Carlos’ voice was hushed too, but not as surprised. This was what he’d been waiting for. “I read about them.”

“Those… those are alive?” The thief held out his hand, as if he could touch the blinking pinpricks of gold.

“They’re bugs,” his boyfriend whispered as he gently cupped one in his hand, its backend illuminating his palm periodically.

“How- what- it's lighting up, Carlos! The bug is fucking blinking! Like… like a flashlight or some other magic shit!”

The freckled boy found Jay’s reaction utterly adorable, and he smiled up at him, still cradling the firefly careful. “Not magic, just science. It’s a chemical reaction, believe it or not. The air goes into its abdomen and reacts with an organic compound inside.”

“Damn.” Jay couldn’t take his eyes off the gently glowing firefly. “I wish my abs glowed like that. Is it like some sort of mating dance?”

“Maybe.” The freckled boy opened his hands wider so the lightning bug could fly free again, watching as it rose up to join the others in the shadowy trees. “Or maybe to warn predators.”

“Would you be attracted to me if I had glowing abs?” Jay asked with a grin.

“You mean, more than I already am?”  Carlos gave him a scruntinxing stare, pretending to study him. “I dunno, you'd have to take your shirt off for me to really picture it.”

“All in good time,” the thief promised with a small smirk.

They lapsed into silence, completely in awe of the fireflies and their mystifying light patterns. How could something so simple hold their attention for so long?

“You know,” Carlos finally said softly. “Kids here grew up catching them. They'd run around and chase them every summer.”

“The closest thing I ever got to anything like that was swatting those god-awful horse flies.” Jay shook his head and rubbed his arms at the memory. “Who needs blinking bugs when you've got big, fat-ass ones that bite you all summer long?”

“Preach.”

They looked at each other with small smiles, each thinking how horribly messed up it was that they could drop statements like that so nonchalantly. They understood what it was like under that dome, and that's all there was to it. No outsider ever would.

“No light-up bugs on that island,” Jay repeated sadly, as if it were just sinking in for the first time. “Just the biting kind. Just about sums up the whole Isle-Auradon situation, doesn’t it?”

“Who did this?” Carlos sighed, his eyes still drawn to the trees. “Who agreed to condemn us to that kind of life?”

“People looking for an easy way out, ‘Los.”

They’d had this conversation too many times to count, trying to reconcile the idea in their minds that a group of people - adults with magic and potions and wands -  couldn’t figure out any other solution, hadn’t been able to see any possible issues with cutting off an entire colony of people capable of reproducing. Or maybe they _had_ seen future problems and hadn’t cared. Sitting there, they could each think of twelve consequences right off the bat.

_They were blind because they chose to be. They didn’t want to try and solve it._

“You were there for sixteen years before they finally came and got you,” Carlos said softly, shaking his head. “And you were one of the oldest kids on the island. Sixteen years. They abandoned you for sixteen years.”

The thief’s fingers were absentmindedly tracing the circular burns on the freckled boy’s arms, now faded, but still just as painful in memory. “Don’t worry about me,” he mumbled quietly. “At least when I was black and blue, the other guy was too.”

High above them, the lightning bugs continued to blink. And try as he might, Carlos couldn’t figure out the pattern. It was a code that he couldn’t crack. It wasn’t technology. Instead it was organic, alive. And living things were so much harder to figure out and predict than machines.

“Hey Jay?”

“Yeah?” The dark-haired boy moved to put his arm around Carlos, giving him a smile. “What’s up?”

The freckled boy was tempted to answer “the sky” just for kicks, but was too busy enjoying the rare, soft expression on Jay’s face to risk ruining it. “Do you think we’re fireflies or horseflies?”

The taller boy had to think for a moment. “Why not both? I wanna bite the shit out of people and have kick-ass glowing abs.”

It was a good answer, and the more he thought about it, the more Carlos liked it. “Me too,” he decided finally. “And for the record, you would look hot with glowing abs.”

“I look hot period,” the thief joked.

“Nope.” It was a lie and they both knew it.

“Yes, I do.”

“Not a chance.”

And as the fireflies continued to sparkle away above them, Carlos found that he could breathe again. Out here, there was no Cruella, no Kings and Queens, no expectations, no bruises on his face or stifling tie around his neck. Just him, Jay, and the lightning bugs.

_Unrealistic yes, but that doesn’t make it any less comforting._

_Freedom shouldn’t belong just to the fireflies._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I apologize for the slow updates!! I'm really gonna try and pick it up!!! ALSO: happy 19th birthday to our very own Cameron Boyce :) :)


	50. What Makes A Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it's moving day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY FOR MAKING YOU GUYS WAIT SO LONG!! HONESTLY, LIFE IS GETTING IN THE WAY! I HAVE NO ABANDONED YOU, NOR DO I EVER PLAN TO MAKE YOU GUYS WAIT THIS LONG!!!  
> SORRY!

> _ “For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Stephanie Perkins _

* * *

 

Isle kids didn’t attach. 

Not to people.

Not to places. 

And certainly not to things. 

It was just too dangerous, in more ways than one. Vultures snatched things out of young children’s hands (which had been the fate of Evie’s little handmade doll, the very first model for her dress designs); anything stolen was usually handed right over to a higher power (there was no point in trying to stash anything from Jafar); things were worthless compared to power (as Mal had been told so many times); and how could you attach to things if you never had anything at all? (Carlos knew a thing or two about that). 

Under that logic, moving day shouldn't have been a big deal. Just relocating from one place to another. The Auradon graduates treated it like milestone. As dorms were slowly emptied and vacated, boxes showed up in the hallway. There was a flurry of hugs and tears and well-wishes. But not from the Isle kids. At least not at first. 

Carlos did take a trip around the whole campus one last time. He ran his fingers across the back table in the science lab, fiddling with his favorite microscope one last time. He walked out behind the building to his favorite spot, stood out in the R.O.A.R. arena and the empty tourney field. All of the good memories in his life were condensed to these past few years, all of them here, at this school. 

It wasn't like the boys had much to actually pack - just their clothes and a few other assorted items. True, it was more than when they came to Auradon, but not by much. Carlos had a small box of books, his printer and projects, Jay had all his tourney gear and awards. Dude’s stuff was neatly piled beside theirs. That was it. 

Still, as Carlos looked around the empty room, with the beds all stripped and the desks fairly empty of personalized belongings, he felt a twinge of  _ something.  _ This was the first place he'd called home. The first place that had felt like home. He glanced over at Jay, who was busying himself with packing up their toiletries, wrapping the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to keep them from exploding in transport. 

“I'm gonna go start taking bags to Ben’s car, okay?” There was something in the way Jay was keeping busy that told him the thief was feeling just a strange about this. 

The freckled boy nodded and made his voice work. “Yeah. Sounds good. I'll do one last sweep.” 

Dude was curled up on the mattress, his tail oddly still, like he knew they were leaving. Carlos meant to open all the drawers for the hundredth time, to check under the bed, to make sure they didn't leave anything behind, but instead he wound up right next to his dog. The mattress was familiar, the room and its ceiling and that dent in the wall where Jay had accidentally launched a tourney ball, all familiar. All theirs. 

“I don't get attached to things,” Carlos said through gritted teeth, alarmed to hear how tight his voice had become. “I don't.” 

_ Yes, you do,  _ the voice in his head reminded him.  _ You’re attached to Jay. And the girls. And Dude.  _

“But not things,” the white-haired boy insisted. “This is just a stupid room.” 

“‘Los, Ben says he's ready whenever -” Jay appeared in the doorway, but stopped short when he noticed his boyfriend on the bed. “You good?” 

“Yeah.” Carlos took a deep breath, standing up. “I'm good.” He ran his hand gently along the wall, and barely noticed that it was shaking until Jay stepped forward. 

“Pup…” 

The shaking got worse and he felt his legs go numb. He had to move, why couldn't he move, why couldn't he breathe?

_ You're not gonna get another home. This wasn't home. You don't have a home.  _

Arms guided him to the floor and strong, steady breaths directed his. The voices were screaming now, drowning out everything but the blood pounding past his ears. 

_ This wasn’t home. You won’t find home. Home is a stupid, useless word.  _

He sat there shaking for a long time, giving in to the voices. At last, the tremors began to slow down, and Carlos found himself stiff and coiled on the floor. 

“Nice deep breaths, okay, ‘Los?” And Jay was there, he was always there. “We’re not leaving home. We’re still looking for it.” 

“W-what?” the smaller boy breathed out, his chest still shaky. He must’ve spoken out loud a few times. 

“Someday, we’ll have a place that will be ours.” The thief was rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. “Ours. We won't have to pay rent or worry about where we’re going next. We’ll own it. We’ll sign those papers. And no one will be able to take it from us.” 

“W-we?” 

“Yeah,” Jay nodded. “That's the plan, isn't it?” 

Carlos managed a nod, his lungs not burning quite so badly now that he had gotten air back in them. He and Jay were looking for home. And they would find it. 

“Don't get up just yet.” The dark-haired boy stayed right beside him. “Rest for a moment. You passed through that, you did a good job.” 

So Carlos allowed himself to fall limp in Jay’s arms, his eyes closing for awhile. It would’ve been nice to stay like that forever, but eventually, he had to get unsteadily to his feet. There was no more putting it off. It was time to go. It was really time to go. 

_ Goodbye for real this time.  _

  
  


**x/x**

  
  


Their new apartment was furnished, but in the way a stranger’s house might have been. It smelled different, the shadows were strange, everything was unfamiliar. And on top of it all, the air conditioning had apparently been on high all day, forcing Carlos to curl up in one of Jay’s sweatshirts. 

“Wanna order pizza?” Jay’s voice was quieter than usual, looking down at the boy sticking close to him. “Or we could go down to the girls’ new place?” 

Carlos twisted tighter into the hoodie, shrugging. “Maybe.” 

“This is ridiculous.” The thief straightened up, turning on all the lights, throwing the place into brightness. “Okay, we're gonna make this place feel safer.” He marched over to their pitiful pile of boxes and started opening them vigorously, haphazardly putting up a tourney poster the team had given him as a present during one of their weird gift exchanges. 

The freckled boy watched in silent amusement. “Wouldn't you rather that go in the bedroom?”

“Right now,” Jay’s words were punctuated by the tacks he slammed into the wall. “I want it up. I don't care where.” 

Next, he (lovingly) brought out his MVP trophy, setting it on one of the shelves. His tourney gear was soon piled in the corner, and the stick leaned up against the wall. 

“Come on, ‘Los. Put out your laptop and all of Dude’s things,” the thief urged. “It'll make this place feel… better.” 

_ Homey,  _ was the word on the tip of his tongue, but it felt just a little too domestic to say out loud.  _ Not yet. Not yet.  _ After all, he was still trying to cling to the final bits of his reputation. 

Finally, Carlos started unpacking (in a little more organized fashion than his boyfriend). He took their folded clothes and put them in drawers, putting Dude’s bed on the floor with all of his toys neatly stashed nearby. 

“I think I want that pizza,” he said at last, glancing around the small flat to survey how it looked with some of their things displayed.

A smile unfurled on Jay’s face, a little triumphant, a little affectionate. “Okay. Me too.” 

They ate their pizza that night curled up on the couch (which didn't seem quite so cold with the two of them and Dude curled under a blanket the thief had stolen from their dorm). And Carlos had to admit, it did feel better with their things unpacked. Tomorrow he would have to clean the place and stock up on food and scope out the area, but for now, he was okay to just curl into Jay with Dude across their laps. 

“I love you,” he mumbled softly, feeling Jay’s hands run through his curls. 

“Love you too, ‘Los.” The older boy planted a gentle kiss among his curls. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Carlos nuzzled into Jay’s neck, and for a moment, they could’ve been back in their old room. It didn’t matter. The thief smelled the same, felt the same,  _ was  _ the same. The setting changed, not the characters. 

_ He’s my home. I found it.  _

 


	51. The Early Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a midnight grocery shop turns into more of an event than either boy suspected

> _ “If I breathe you in and you breathe me out, I swear we can breathe forever. I swear I’ll find summer in your winter and spring in your autumn and always, hands at the ends of your fingers, arms at the ends of your shoulders and I swear, when we run out of forever, when we run out of air, your name will be the last word that my lungs make air for.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Iain Thomas _

* * *

 

Nothing was more otherworldly than a grocery store at midnight. 

Empty aisles, strangely bright lights against the dark windows, soft music playing from unseen speakers. 

Usually, the boys got the shopping done at the beginning of the week, but work had kept them both overtime, and after several days of takeout, Carlos finally cracked and sent Jay to run out and get some groceries. 

 

_ At least some cereal stuff,  _ the text read.  _ Would go myself, but shelter needs me for another hour.  _

 

Whistling softly, Jay strolled down the frozen aisle, grabbing several pizzas and loading them into his basket. They basically lived on cereal and pizza these days. 

“Jay?” 

His head snapped up, looking around. At the other end of the row, a familiar blonde was squinting at him. 

“Charming!” Jay walked forward to clap his old teammate on the back incredulously. Chad might not have been his favorite person in the world in high school, but it wasn’t like the guy was evil. And Jay had met evil people. “What brings to you the area?” 

The prince nodded. “Well, I’m here for the weekend ‘cause -” His cheeks colored some and he shook his head a little. “My, uh, boyfriend goes to school down here.” 

It took a moment for his words to register. “ _ You?”  _

“Yeah.” Chad suddenly looked nervous. “Don't, don't tell anyone, okay? Haven't gotten around to telling my parents.” 

The thief gave him another grin. “Damn, Charming, why didn't you say something to me before?” 

“Didn't know before.” 

Still, the prince looked ridiculously happier now. It suddenly struck Jay that perhaps Chad’s bitchiness had been mostly a front. 

“Well, good for you, man,” the dark-haired boy told him honestly. “That's great. 

“How's Carlos?” Chad asked, putting his basket down. “You two still together?” 

“Yeah.” The thief had to bite his lip to keep from looking too proud.  _ Carlos is mine.  _ “We are. Renting an apartment a few blocks from here.” 

The prince nodded, giving him another sheepish grin. “Look, I feel bad, I was - well, -” 

“An asshole?” Jay just shook his head, winking. “Look, I don't usually forgive people, Charming, but maybe you can make it up to me somehow. Drop in and see ‘Los and I every once and awhile. Bring food or we’ll pretend we don’t know you.” 

“You got it.” 

When the two parted ways, they each shook their heads to themselves. What a strange meeting in the middle of a freezer aisle at twelve a.m.. Not an unwelcome one, either. 

The thief felt his phone buzz in his back pocket and quickly fished it out. Sure enough, Carlos’ adorable face was on his display. 

“Hey, ‘Los,” he said picking up as he walked to grab a few cartons of milk. 

“Where are you?” 

“Still at the store,” Jay answered apologetically. “Ran into Chad Charming of all people. And guess what - he’s hella gay.” 

There was the sound of Carlos laughing on the other end, and it made the dark-haired boy smile. 

“Is that so? Think we’re responsible?” 

“Oh yeah.” Two cartons of milk, one of chocolate milk went into his basket. “Totally. That's our magic power, right?” 

“Right.” Carlos was still chuckling. “Well, hurry home, okay? I just got in.” 

“I'll be there as fast as I can,” Jay promised. “Let me just get some cereal, and then I'm all yours.” 

“Get the chocolate kind!” 

“I got chocolate milk already, too,” Jay told him with a laugh. “Evie is gonna murder us next time she comes over. Yesterday she somehow managed to get vegetables in our fridge without us noticing.” 

“Damn her,” Carlos joked. 

“Love you, ‘Los.” 

“Love you too.” 

Jay hung up, walking quicker now, eager to get home. While he knew that work and class were  _ necessary _ , it still sucked to be separated from Carlos for so many hours. Lost in thought, he didn't notice the person in front of him until she crashed, contents from her basket spilling everywhere. 

“Oh,” she laughed loudly. “My bad!” which was a stupid response as far as Jay was concerned. He knew that laugh, he knew that move. It was a grocery store in the early hours of the morning - it wasn't exactly crowded or anything. Besides, as someone who considered himself a master of flirting techniques, this fell low on the difficulty charts. 

The girl bent slowly to pick up her spilled groceries, her long, dark hair falling into her face, and he got a clear view down her shirt, which caused him to take a few steps back. 

“Here.” In one swoop, Jay placed all her items back into her basket, hoping she'd move on. It wasn't like he'd never been hit on before, but usually, he flirted back. Before, he would’ve probably even initiated it if he’d spotted a piece of jewelry or wallet on the person. Tonight, though, he wasn’t after some trinket and the only person he was interested in flirting with was waiting for him back at their apartment. 

“I'm sorry,” the dark-haired girl laughed again. “I'm so clumsy sometimes.” 

“It's alright.” His reflexes told him to crack a flirty grin, but Jay ignored them. Trying to move past her, she somehow boxed him against a shelf.

_ Shit,  _ he thought.  _ Am I gonna have to say it to her face? How do I even do that?  _

His fingers were already reaching towards her wrist, sliding down one of her bracelets. 

“Oh gosh,” the girl laughed, moving out of the way again. “Honestly, I'm so sorry. First crashing into you, now this!”

“It's really fine.” Jay nodded at her. “Just, you know, trying to get home.” 

“Hey, I've seen you around campus! You taking Sports Medicine?” She pushed her hair back over her shoulder, flashing him another smile. 

“Yeah.” Why was he still talking to her? He didn't want to be. He wanted to go home, to see Carlos. “Listen, my boyfriend is waiting -” 

“Boyfriend?” Her eyebrow shot up, but she never stopped preening. “Oh you poor thing.” 

After the conversation with Chad, Jay had almost forgotten that most people here still weren't comfortable with this sort of thing. Auradon people. “Excuse me?” 

“Well,” she laughed, shaking her head again. “You clearly haven't been satisfied in a while. No wonder you were so desperate to flirt with me.” 

“I wasn't flirting.” Right? He hadn't done anything wrong? He'd smiled once at her, did that count? Had he said something he'd already forgotten? Shit, he hadn't been trying to cheat at all. Suddenly he wanted to get home more than ever. 

“Yes you were!” Her dark eyes bored into his. “You crashed into me, were laughing -” 

“I really gotta go home.” Jay grabbed his basket, throwing a few boxes of cereal into it and starting to walk. 

“Listen.” She’d caught up with him. “Hey, it's okay. No one blames you. Honestly, I’d do the same. If you wanna come to my car, we could have a little fun and then I’ll drop you home.” 

“No.” 

“At least take-” 

“No.” He turned on her. “I don't even know your name.” 

“Is that all you're worried about?” The flirtress asked, her hands on her hips. “It's college, everyone hooks up with -” 

“No.” 

_ Don’t move. Don’t get close, oh her earrings would be so easy to slip off, one -  _

“Hey, Jay? She giving you trouble?” 

Finally, a voice that didn't make him cringe. 

“Charming, kindly tell this woman that I have a boyfriend,” Jay said over his shoulder. 

“He’s got a boyfriend,” the prince echoed, coming over. “Uh - me.” 

It was unexpected, but worked. Chad Charming really was full of surprises. Maybe he wasn't such a coward after all. 

“And listen, Chad was an asshole before he came out,” the thief added, moving closer to the prince in case the girl didn’t believe they were a thing. “So don't be too quick to jump on that.”  

“I was trying to be friendly,” the woman gasped, suddenly defensive. “This - this is why I hate men.” She moved away, giving Jay a final look. “And you were definitely flirting, not even subtly. Hope you tell your boyfriend that.” 

Chad waited until she’d officially disappeared before giving the thief a final nod. 

“Thanks, man,” Jay managed to say. 

“Anytime.” 

 

**x/x**

 

It was very late - or rather, early - when Carlos finally heard the sound of lock turning that meant Jay was home. 

Tired though he was, his body had refused to fall asleep until he was sure the thief was home safe and sound. Getting up off the couch, careful not to wake a sleeping Dude, he went to help his boyfriend with the groceries. 

“Hey,” the freckled boy greeted him, his voice gravelly from lack of use. “Young man, do you know what time it is?” 

Jay smiled, but it seemed distracted, far away, which was enough for Carlos to set the bags down on the counter and study him. “You don't look too hot.” 

The thief ran a hand through his hair. “Just tired. ‘S late.” 

“No, no.” The smaller boy put his hands on Jay’s shoulders, shaking his head. “Did something happen? Was it Chad? Holy shit, if -” 

“No, no, Pup.” Jay shook his head. “Nothing like that. I just… nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing,” Carlos told him, starting to unload the groceries. “But it's late and you need sleep. Process whatever you need to, and we’ll talk it through when you're ready.” 

It wasn't until the fridge and pantry were restocked and the two were in bed that Jay finally spoke again. 

“‘Los?” 

“Yeah?” Carlos had been nearly asleep, but he turned over anyway. 

“I think I cheated.” 

That hadn't been what the freckled boy had expected at all. “Uh… wha- what do you mean?”

“A girl-” Jay swallowed hard. “At the store. Never rejected anyone before, didn't know what to do, tried to stop-” 

“Did you kiss her?” 

“No.” 

Carlos frowned. “Did you fuck her?” 

“Absolutely not!” 

“Did you even notice her at all?” 

“No. She noticed me.”  The thief played with a strand of his hair. 

“Then why do you think you cheated?” Carlos was holding his breath, waiting for the answer. The pieces didn't fit together, and judging from the way his heart was pounding, there was a good chance he could panic if Jay kept being so cryptic. But he kept it together; it wouldn’t do them any good to have two people falling apart. He just needed answers. Answers before jumping to conclusions. 

“I - she told me - I flirted with her.” The thief’s face was screwed up in confusion. “But - I know that doesn't sound - she just -” 

There was the sound of a phone beeping on the side table, and Carlos recognized the tone as his. Jay reached over and handed it to him. 

The text was from Chad, of all people. 

“Your man had a run in with a bitch at the store tonight,” the white-haired boy read aloud. “He didn't even give her a second glance, he was too busy talking about you.” 

Even in the mostly-darkness of their room, Carlos could see Jay’s cheeks flush. “Well… that's not… she said I flirted. And...” 

“You never listen to what anyone else says.” The freckled boy put the phone down, the tightness alleviating from his chest. “You're one of the most confident people I know. Why did she get to you?” 

“Dunno,” his boyfriend mumbled, rubbing the side of his face. “I just… it's a habit, flirting I mean. And maybe I just don't know how to stop, maybe I will cheat on you, maybe I won’t even mean to and somehow lose you  -” 

“Sounds like you did just fine.” 

“Yeah.” Jay still sounded uncertain. “Maybe I did. She just… wow, she got in my head. That never - Carlos, what's happening to me?”  

_ Love made him weak. Made you both weak.  _

“No.” The freckled boy gritted his teeth against the voice in his head. “Love didn't- you're not weak. You just have more to lose now.” 

And as they lay back down, trying to catch a few hours of sleep at least, the voice tried to mull over what he'd said. 

_ With love comes weakness  _ because _ you have more to lose, darling. That's the answer.  _

Restless, Carlos rolled back over, chewing his lip hard. That couldn’t be the answer. It wasn’t the answer. 

“It’s worth it,” Jay mumbled, his arms reaching out to wrap around the smaller boy’s slim waist. “Having a weakness is worth it.” 

“Why?” Weakness were bad. They were the difference between the strong and the dead. 

“‘Cause Chad was right,” the thief told him. “I was thinking about you. I didn't want you to think I’d cheated. I cared about what good I did because of  _ you _ . Which is more than stupid Goodness class ever did for me.”  

“Is goodness the right thing?” 

“I dunno.” At least Jay was honest. “I really don't know, but it's better than whatever hell we came from, right?” 

“Right.” Chills erupted all over Carlos’ arms as he ran his fingers over a few scars. “Hey Jay?” 

“Yep?” 

“My scars are tingling.” 

Strong, warm hands joined the slightly trembling ones, doing what words couldn’t, soothing the burning sensation. Eventually, the freckled boy’s mind was clear again, clear enough to juxtapose two words. 

 

_ Strength: a good or beneficial quality or attribute of a person or thing.  _

_ Weakness: a person or thing that one is unable to resist or likes excessively. _

 

“Hey, Jay?” Carlos called again, his voice thin, but not fragile anymore. “You’re both.” 

“Both what, Pup?” 

“My strength and my weakness.” 

The thief looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave a short nod and a small smile. “Sounds good. Better than I could’ve ever explained it.”

“You saved my life,” the white-haired teen reminded him. “And I’d sacrifice it for you.” 

Jay brought him into an embrace, shaking his head. “Somehow makes total sense.” 

And as they sat - not sleeping - in the early hours of the morning, neither of them said another word until their alarms went off. The dangerous hours were over. The weird expanse of time between midnight and sunrise - when you were either hammered, in danger, or in love to still be awake - hadn’t gotten to them this time. 

_ We made it through another night,  _ Carlos thought as he slid out of bed.  _ Maybe someday we’ll stop considering that to be our standard.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! Thank you for your patience!! I really, really appreciate it! <3


	52. Proud, Not Possessive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos wears Jay's varsity jacket

> _“When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.”_
> 
> _~ Arrigo Boito_

* * *

 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, ‘Los, for the hundredth time, I’m so sure. Please wear it.” Jay held out his varsity jacket, pleading.

“We don’t have to tell everyone in the whole stadium we’re together,” Carlos said shyly, still not reaching out to grab it. He adored wearing Jay’s clothes, but people had been hyping up the first home college tourney game of the season, and practically the whole school was going. Jay still had a bit of a tough-guy reputation, and as soon as people knew he was with Carlos, well, people would look at him in a different way, that was for sure.

“Pup, I like when you wear my shit,” the thief assured him. “If you don’t want to, it’s cool, but -”

“No, I just -” Carlos bit his lip. “Your rep -”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Jay draped the jacket around the smaller boy’s shoulders, shaking his head. “I’ve got enough charm for both of us.”

“Ha, ha.” The freckled boy stuck out his tongue, finally putting the thing on. “Let’s hope your rep survives the afterparty if I have _such_ a lack of charisma.”

“Yeah, let’s hope.” The thief’s eyebrow quirked up in playful challenge, and as he walked to grab his bag, he gave Carlos’ ass a tap.

 

**x/x**

 

The stadium was big, much bigger than Auradon Prep’s had been. People were just starting to trickle inside, but judging by the sounds coming from outside the walls, there was quite the tailgate going on.

Not one for huge crowds and bouncing pickup trucks, Carlos found a seat close to the pitch so he could watch the team warm up (and possibly to admire Jay from a better angle).

The thief was wearing his warm-up gear, moving his stick around, getting loose, and the freckled boy couldn’t help smiling. After a moment or two, he noticed Jay making a few familiar motions with his hands, which he realized was his boyfriend’s attempt at a single-person good luck handshake. Back when he and Carlos had played on the Fighting Knights, they’d come up with a pre-match routine (not that they were superstitious or anything).

“Jay!”

The thief turned, looking up to where Carlos was sitting, and his face broke into a sheepish grin as he jogged over. “I - uh - didn’t know if I should keep doing the handshake - by myself. Probably looked hella stupid.”

The white-haired boy leaned over to the railing, laughing. “It did. But it’s cool, you don’t have to do it by yourself. I don’t have to play to do a handshake.”

Laughing, the two of them attempted to execute an over-the-railing version of the thing, which had Carlos nearly toppling onto the pitch. Somewhere in the middle of it, Mal and Evie had started making their way across the stands, and now they watched as the boys finished their little routine.

“Goals,” the princess laughed, giving Carlos a hug and waving down to Jay. “How are my favorite boys?”

“Was that some sort of mating dance?” Mal looked from one to the other, raising an eyebrow, as Carlos’ face went scarlet.

“Nope.” Jay didn’t even bat an eyelash, far too accustomed to his best friend’s tactless jokes. “Just a good-luck handshake.”

“No, Jay!” the freckled boy shook his head. “You can’t say that, it jinxes it! We have to do it again!”

“Oh, then we have to do it again, immediately, right now.”

They immediately resumed their handshake.

Mal looked unimpressed as she sat down, looking up at Evie. “Who would’ve thought the two dorkiest boys we know would hit it off?”

“They are both really dorky,” the princess agreed, sitting beside the half-fairy. “But cute.”

“Maybe.”

“You know it’s true.”

And Mal did.

There was the sound of a whistle and Jay’s team calling out to him. The thief leapt up on the railing to give Carlos a kiss before dropping back to the grass to join his teammates with a final wave for the girls.  

“Carlos,” Evie called slyly as the freckled boy joined them. “That jacket looks very familiar.”

The tips of the boy’s ears burned pink. “I have no idea why.”

“Jay let you wear his jacket?” Mal raised an eyebrow.

“He asked me to wear it, thank you very much.”

Both Mal and Evie gaped some. The Isle kids were possessive, everyone knew that. But Jay in particular. People had stopped asking him for pencils in class after he nearly stabbed someone in the wrist with one.

“He _asked_ you? Like, with words?”

“He’s my boyfriend!” Carlos knew full well why the girls were surprised. He himself had been shocked the first time Jay had offered him anything. But that was the thing about Jay - he was full of surprises. Good kinds of surprises (which Carlos had just so recently discovered actually existed), like bringing pizza home for dinner or showing up at the shelter to keep him company on late night; definitely not the surprises Carlos was used to - like his mother returning two days early from the spa or an unexpected blow when crept around the corner of Hell Hall.

“Yeah, and he’s also a pretty covetous asshole,” Mal reminded him, folding her arms. “People don’t change.”

“True.” Carlos gave the half-fae a grin. “But the ‘covetous asshole’ gave me his jacket, practically begged me to wear it, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

“How romantic,” Evie laughed.

“How disgusting.” Mal made a face.

“Missy, I don’t wanna hear another word from you,” the princess admonished sternly, folding her arms over her blue halter top and mini skirt combo. “You are far more romantic than you let on!”

“Shut up or I’ll slit your throat.” The purple-haired girl’s words didn’t match the glint in her eyes.

“Evie, is that a new top?” Carlos broke in, just now noticing the piece.

“Yes!” The princess positively glowed. “Do you like it? I was worried it would show a little too much side-boob -”

“There’s no such thing as too much side boob for you,” Mal smirked, causing Evie’s cheeks to flush pink.

“Anyway,” the latter continued, a bit more breathless than before. “Yes, tonight is this whole outfit’s debut, down to the shoes.” She held up a foot and wiggled a chunky blue boot with red jewels. “At least _someone_ cared enough to ask.”

“I did ask!” Mal protested immediately. “I said, ‘cute top, is it new’? Remember?”

“Well, you didn’t ask about the shoes.”

“He didn’t either!” Evie pretended to pout for a moment before Mal finally rolled her eyes. “Cute outfit, Evie, is it new?”

The princess looked slightly more sated. “Yes it is, M, thanks for asking.”

Carlos tried to hide his laughter. Mal never aquised for anyone but Evie, no exceptions. Something about the princess always had her acting a little differently, too.

“What are you laughing about, dog boy?” the half-fae asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re much too amused for my liking.”

“Nothing, Mal.” He valued his life.

After a few moments, the remainder of the pout had dropped off Evie’s face. “The game is gonna start soon!” she exclaimed, and Carlos realized that the stands had filled up during their debate. They were now crammed full of college kids (both wasted and getting there). “Think Jay will start? He _is_ only a freshman, after all.”

“Think he’ll make out with Carlos after the game?” Mal retorted, trying to prove a point. “It’s inevitable.”

“Not true.” The freckled boy was red again, he could feel it.

“About the making out or the starting?”

“The making out!”

A loud noise suddenly blared out over the stadium as the speakers came to life, and a baritone voice reverberated off the already vibrating stands. The home team was announced one by one - with the girls and Carlos cheering particularly loudly for a certain dark-haired thief.

 _The best looking guy on the pitch,_ Carlos thought to himself. _Actually, the best looking guy in this stadium._

He suddenly felt very proud to be sporting Jay’s jacket. Not only did it look great, it smelled good too, and he had to resist the urge to turn his head into the collar to inhale (even though his cheeks were so pink just from thinking about it that someone was bound to ask what was wrong anyway).

“Your man just took someone out,” Mal commented, pointing to the guy now sprawled on the grass.

“Good.” Carlos watched him weave through several defensemen before dishing it off. “I wasn’t worried. You’ve seen him on the streets.”

“He’s scary on the streets.” Evie shook her head, pushing back her curls. “If I didn’t know what an absolute dork he really is, I’d be terrified of crossing him.”

“He’d probably be happy to hear that,” Carlos smiled. “The intimidating part, not the dork bit.”

“He’s playing well,” Mal commented a while later, studying the game carefully. Carlos always thought it was unfair that girls weren’t allowed to play - the half-fairy knew the game almost as well as Jay did. “I bet a bunch of girls try to hit on him at the party tonight.”

“Mal,” Evie smacked her arm. “Don’t say that! He actually had a bit of a rough night at the grocery store the other night.”

The stubborn look on Mal’s face faltered a little. “What happened?”

“Carlos said that some girl tried to get in his pants.”

“Who is she? I will murder her!” the purple-haired fairy growled, gritting her teeth. “Nobody touches him -”

“It’s okay,” Carlos assured her. “He came home, was a little shaken, but he’s good now. Oh, Evie, did I tell you Chad Charming is gay?”

The girl’s response was drowned out by the sound of the stadium exploding into noise. Mal threw an arm in front of Evie and Carlos, who had instintively ducked and covered their heads. It took a moment for the noise to register as cheering: Jay’s team had scored.

Everything from beer bottles to paper plates were tossed into the air, and Carlos remained covered for just a few moments after that to make sure no other projectiles were tossed out as well.

“Everyone okay?” Mal looked at the other two, her eyes still flashing green.

“Yup.”

“Getting there.”

Carlos had heard about die-hard tourney fans, but he hadn’t expected them to be _that_ loud. After a moment, his eyes found Jay on the field, in position for the play to start. For just a split second, Jay turned and looked up to where he was sitting with a little smirk on his face.

And that made Carlos feel a lot better.

 

**x/x**

 

The afterparty was already in full swing by the time Jay was able to get over to the venue.

“Good win,” someone called as he walked through the door.

“Nice playing, Jay.”

“Way to go, freshman.”

“Jay!”

The last voice was the only one Jay really cared about.

Evie was waiting from him by the punch, and she wasted no time in throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. “Great game!”

“Thanks, Eves,” he laughed, hugging her back.

“Mal and Carlos are waiting for you.” The princess began pulling him to the back of the place, hindered by the countless of people wanting to congratulate the thief.

Carlos was sitting on a pool table in the back room, looking smugly at the kid across from him. “Pay up.”

“That wasn’t a fair game.”

“I said, _pay up.”_

Money switched hands and the hulking kid left the room in a huff, brushing roughly past the thief.

Carlos had his back turned to Jay, counting his new winnings.

“Nice jacket,” the dark-haired boy grinned, taking a step towards him. “You got a boyfriend or something?”

“Or something,” Carlos turned, waving the newly-won money in front of the thief’s face. “He just won a tourney game, you seen him anywhere?”

“Looks like he’s not the only one who won something tonight.” Jay gestured to the pool table. “I had no idea you were so good at this.”

“Mm, pity.” Carlos clicked his tongue. “I could’ve challenged you for a pretty penny, too.”

“Still can.”

“Oh for the love of Evil.” Mal was sitting nearby, groaning. “You two are revolting.”

“Glad to hear it,” the dark-haired boy grinned, giving her a little wave. “How’s it going, Mal? Thanks for coming to the game.”

“Thanks for winning so it wasn’t a waste of my time,” she shot back, standing up to give him an affectionate punch on the shoulder.

“So,” the fae lowered her voice. “You let Carlos wear your jacket, huh?”

The thief glanced over at his boyfriend, who was now talking animatedly with Evie, and admiring the slightly oversized varsity jacket that hadn’t left his shoulders all night. “Maybe I did.”

“He looks good in it.”

Jay looked over, surprised to hear Mal admit that. “Have you been drinking? Why did you just say that?”

“No, dumbass.” She gave him an uncharacteristic smile. “I just think… you guys… are good together.”

The thief pretended to have a heart attack. “Can I get that on recording?”

“No.” Mal punched his arm again. “One time only admission. Seriously, though, he looked great in that jacket. Even if you’re a possessive little shit.”

“Not possessive,” Jay corrected, still admiring his boyfriend fondly. “Just proud.”

And in that split second, Carlos looked over and caught his eye, a faint pink blooming on his cheeks.

 _Priceless,_ Jay thought. _That boy? He is priceless._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'm constantly blown away by your amazing comments and support. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart! <3 <3


	53. So This is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an infestation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT THERE'S NO EXCUSE FOR HOW LONG THIS CHAPTER TOOK.  
> Okay, maybe kind of an excuse, I was out of town.  
> BUT STILL.  
> I'M SORRY. YELL AT ME IN THE COMMENTS IF IT'LL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER.

>   _“love, I've come to understand is more than three words mumbled before bedtime.”_
> 
> _― Nicholas Sparks_

* * *

 “Just shave his head,” Mal said for the hundredth time, enjoying the response it elicited from the thief as he fiercely brought his hands up to protect his hair.

“You shave it, I _murder_ you,” Jay growled.

“Not my fault you've got bugs in your scalp.”

“Mal, don't be so cocky,” Carlos called from the kitchen. “It’s not like you’re cleaner than he is: I found at least a dozen on you in the first comb-through.”

“Bullshit. I shower every day.”

“I do, too!” the thief argued. “Didn’t stop them! I thought we kicked this, ‘Los!!”

“We did,” his boyfriend sighed, trying to ignore the itch in his own hair. “The lice apparently didn’t listen when you told them to ‘get out and stay gone’. Can’t imagine why.”  

Back on the Isle, everything (and everyone) had been infested with all kinds of parasites. Unfortunately for Carlos, many of the bugs had been interested in his mother’s furs, and repellent wasn’t exactly commonplace on an island of trash.

Just then, the apartment door swung open and Evie strode in, carrying several plastic bags. “I got a bunch of different kinds of shampoo,” she called breathlessly, setting them down on the kitchen counter. “There were just so many, I didn’t know which to pick! Carlos, come help me.”

“Hey, Carlos, what was in the stuff you and Evie had us use on the island again?” Mal called, her hand inching up to her purple waves to scratch. “It reeked, but it worked.”

“A vinegar mixture.” Carlos examined the fancy chemical shampoos. “And then we’d have to comb them out strand by strand, remember?”

“How could I forget?” the princess shivered. Her mother would’ve never let a child of hers walk around with lice, and Carlos had been so grateful for access to some of her recipes. Creating mothballs was one thing, but lice were far more stubborn.

“Jay, why the fuck did you have to bring those shitty little crawlers back into our lives?” the half-fairy grumbled, now scratching her scalp very incriminatingly.

“How was this my fault?” Jay folded his arms. “It could’ve very well been you.”

“Half the tourney team has it right now! And, as far as I’m concerned, you’re the only one in that locker room and who knows what kind of weird shit goes on.”

“It's not like we rub our heads together!”

“But you share equipment.”

“It doesn’t really matter _who_ brought it in,” Evie cut in, reading one of the bottles. “We all need to treat our hair immediately. Ugh, I feel so gross.”

“Don’t worry.” Carlos was scanning another. “These Auradon shampoos have to be stronger than the stuff your mom had. Okay, this looks like the best one.”

“Alright, let’s start this thing. I want to get rid of these bugs.” Evie gave him a little smile before calling, “Jay, Mal, get your asses in here right now!”

“Is this stuff gonna smell as bad as the mixture you guys used on the island?” Jay grumbled, leaning on the counter.

“Probably.” Carlos had already opened the bottle. “This needs to sit in our hair for fifteen minutes. I'll put it in Jay’s, Evie can help Mal, then you help us, got it?”

“And after that,” the princess opened another bottle. “We have to wash everything. Every hairbrush, every pillow case -”

“This was a lot easier when none of us had any crap,” Mal interrupted, screwing up her face in disgust.

“Yeah, well, we didn't have a place to live either.” Carlos would take this apartment over Hell Hall any day. Lice were just a minor inconvenience compared to what happened inside those walls. “And stop stalling.”

“Like old times,” Jay grimaced as Carlos started rubbing the stuff in his hair.

Carlos fingers plated the dark strands, making sure to get the shampoo _everywhere._ Unfortunately, “everywhere” for Jay held a lot of surface area. “You need a haircut.”

“You're not shaving my head.”

“I didn't say shave,” Carlos huffed. “I said _cut._ It's completely wrecked on the ends.”

“Let’s worry about the bugs infesting it first, shall we?” Jay gave him a winning smile, which earned him a playful glare in response.

“You’re getting it cut,” Carlos told him. “Mark my words. Just a trim.”

“I volunteer to hold him down!” Mal was suddenly much more enthusiastic than she had been the moment before.

“That won't be necessary!” Carlos gave his boyfriend a look. “I can withhold _certain things_ if he doesn't comply.”

“Carlos!”

“Jay!” The freckled boy mocked his tone, flicking the thief’s temple affectionately. “I'm serious. Now hold still.”

“Ew, I hate putting all this gunk in our hair,” Evie groaned, hardly paying any attention to the rest of the conversation, her nose all crinkled up.

“That’s funny.” The half-fae looked up at the princess. “Because you put so many hair products in at night, I’m sure the whole building gets high off the fumes.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Evie aggressively squirted an extra dollop of the shampoo on Mal’s hair. “If you’re not careful, I’ll get this stuff in your eye.”

“Then I’d go blind and wouldn’t be able to see how pretty you are, princess.” Mal feigned innocence, the corners of her mouth curving up into a smirk.

Jay smiled up at Carlos, both shaking their heads.

“Stop smiling!” Mal growled, trying to twist her head towards them. “Both of you! Stop smiling!”  

“Okay, Mal, whatever you say.” Neither of them stopped grinning for a moment, even when Mal flashed her eyes at them.

When all four of them had been thoroughly shampooed, Carlos set the timer on his phone.

“My scalp tingles,” Mal complained, trying to reach up and itch.

“Tingles?” Evie was wincing. “It burns!”

“Its incinerating all the creepy, crawling little bugs in your hair,” Mal told her with an evil grin. “Can you hear them screaming in pain?”

“Mal.” Carlos rolled his eyes. “Will you cut it out? Jay! Don't lean your head on the wall, or you’ll have to clean it.”

“ _Just to be clear_ ,” the purple-haired girl cleared her throat. “This is all Jay’s fault.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry Jay.” Evie bit her lip. “But I’m gonna have to agree with Mal on this one.”

The thief turned to Carlos, his arms folded. “What about you, _babe_? What do you think?”

“Oh no, it wasn't your fault.” The freckled boy patted his arm, making eye contact with the girls when he thought Jay wasn't looking and nodding vigorously. _Definitely his fault,_ he mouthed.

“I see you.”

“No you don't! I love you!”

“Sure.”

 

**x/x**

 

Seven loads of laundry, three showers, and four bottles of shampoo later, the ever-persistent parasites were on their way out.

“Just a few more strands,” Carlos promised as he ran the comb through Jay’s hair. Evie and Mal had already been combed out and were asleep on the newly-washed couch cushions, their arms wrapped around one another.

“Don’t tell Mal this,” Jay said in a low voice, tipping his head back to see his boyfriend. “But I totally brought the lice into this family.”

“Why do you only show Nice Jay to me?” Carlos laughed softly, shaking his head. “Why do you have to be Asshole Jay to everyone else?”

“You know why.”

And he did.

So instead of answering, the freckled boy leaned down to kiss the thief, who was still upside down. It was more laughing than kissing in the end, but that wasn’t any different than usual.

“You know, if you admit to bringing the lice in now, maybe Mal will only shave half your head,” Carlos teased with an affectionate peck on the older boy’s forehead.

“Never. And she’s not getting near my hair or she’ll be very, _very_ sorry.”

“The only one who should be sorry is you,” the freckled boy admonished. “For making us go through this. Seven loads of laundry, babe, seven!”

“I helped!”

“You poured the detergent.”

“And the softener!”

“The things I do for love,” Carlos laughed again, his hands still running through Jay’s hair even though the combing was long done.

“This is love.” It wasn’t a question.

“I mean, not that I have any experience in the matter,” the white-haired boy sighed. “But I think so. It feels right.”

_How does one describe love if they’ve never felt it before?_

_Is it warm? Does it make the heart flutter?_

_Or is it all that and more?_

  
_It’s more,_ Carlos thought finally. _It’s more. This is more._


	54. Never Let You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's an accident

> _“There are not enough days in forever to allow me to fully express the depth of my love for you.”_
> 
> _~ Steve Maraboli_

* * *

 The call came in at a quarter to midnight.

Jay was on the couch, only half watching a really shitty movie - trying to keep himself awake until Carlos came home - when the phone rang. It wasn’t a caller that he recognized, so he let it go to voicemail, but when the same number came up on the display again a moment later, something felt off.

“Yeah?” he yawned into the phone, rubbing his eyes. Evie often chided him on his phone manner (she called them horrendous) but at the moment, Jay was too tired to care. “What - who is this?”

“Is this Carlos de Vil’s emergency contact?”

“Well, I’m one of the only three people he considers family if that’s what you mean.” The thief rubbed his eyes, trying to focus more the words the woman was saying. “What’s going on? Is he okay?”

“There’s been an incident. He was in charge of returning the dogs from our adoption location,” the woman continued, speaking quickly. “We just got a call, the van pulled off the road. We think it was an engine fire off the highway…” Her words turned into one solid buzz as Jay’s mind reeled. He was sure there was more, she was still talking, about ambulances and extinguishers and exit numbers, but there was only one thing left on the thief’s tongue.  

“Carlos…” His words felt like mollosas in his mouth, unable to slip properly out of his mouth. “Is he - I’m coming.” He didn’t wait. He didn’t think. He simply grabbed the keys and ran out the door.

 

**x/x**

  


The van was on fire.

As he got out of the car, Jay could see the orange blur eating at the night sky, accentuated by the flashing red and blue lights of police cars and firetrucks. Dogs were whining and barking, their crates moved far away from the scene to avoid the leaping flames and shouting emergency personal, but not far enough to calm them down. Their howls and barks clashed terrifically with the whining of the sirens.

“Sir, you can’t -”

“Fuck off,” Jay hissed, pushing away the arms trying to keep him from approaching the van. “My boyfriend was driving that car.” His eyes scanned the place, looking for the familiar white curls or lithe build. “Where is the driver? Did you find the driver? Does anyone know where the driver is?”

Nobody seemed to hear him.

Officers were shouting, dogs were howling, and the van was still burning, eating its way through the battered old car. But Jay didn’t care about any of that. He was going to get the answer he wanted out of someone whether it took force or not.

“Where’s the driver?” he asked again, his voice loud, harsh, and maybe just a little bit desperate. “Where’s the driver? Have you seen him? Has anyone fucking seen him? Shorter than me, white hair, freckles, _fuck, anyone?_ ”

“The driver?” someone asked. “We found his phone over there on the pavement.” The woman held up the phone Jay had purchased for Carlos back at Auradon Prep. The screen was cracked, and the case broken on one side.

“Yes, but where is _he?”_ Jay couldn’t breathe and it had nothing to do with the smoky air. “Is he still inside the car? Did he make it out? _Can someone tell me where he is?_ ”

“Haven’t found him yet,” the woman said, shaking her head. “He was on the way back from picking up some of the dogs from our adoption day program, and -”

“So this is your fault?” Jay turned on her, his fists clenched. “You put him in that van? And you can’t fucking find him! You bitch -”

“Sir, please -”

He wrenched away from her hands, approaching the van. “Is he inside there? Is he inside?”

What weren’t they telling him? Why were they ignoring him? Did they know something he didn’t?

If Carlos was suffocating inside that fiery inferno, he would go in after him. Fire didn’t scare him. On the island, if a blaze was just starting, sometimes he’d try to salvage stuff before the rickety structures caved. Jay started towards the van, ready to throw himself inside, when a bark and a scream cut him off.

“FUCK, JAY STOP!” Carlos was tearing out of the woods, two dogs in his arms, tripping over roots as his voice reached peak volume and panic. “FUCKING HELL, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? JAY! JAY STOP! I’M HERE! I’M RIGHT HERE! GET AWAY FROM THERE!”

The thief was frozen for five milliseconds before his limbs started working again. He reached Carlos in a few strides, already checking for injuries. “Are you hurt? Are you burned? Are you okay?”

“Engine started smoking.” Carlos was out of breath, clutching the dogs for dear life. “Pulled over, got the crates out, these two were in the backseat - aren’t crate trained - and they took off as soon as I opened the door, ran after them, ‘m okay, Jay, I wasn’t even in the car when it really caught fire. If I’d had more time, I could’ve stopped it from spreading so much. Someone must’ve opened the hood, oxygen got in, fanned the -”

He was cut off by Jay’s arms as the older boy pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. “Holy shit, Carlos. Holy shit.”

“‘M okay, ‘m okay,” the freckled boy kept repeating, pressing his face into Jay’s shirt. “I had to go after the dogs, that’s all. What about you? Are you okay? Did they get mad? Did they tell you I was dead?”

“Nothing, they told me nothing. Holy shit.” The thief couldn’t seem to make anything else come out of his mouth. His lungs felt like he’d inhaled acid and his chest heaved as he held Carlos in his arms.

Other people had come up to them now, trying to take the dogs from Carlos and asking him all the questions Jay already had.

“We just want to let the emergency personnel get a look at  you -” the woman from earlier said, but Carlos waved her off.

“I’m fine.”

“It’ll just take a second -”

“ _I’m fine.”_ Honey eyes narrowed and stared into hers, one hand locked tightly on Jay’s bicep. “I wasn’t anywhere near the fire. I don’t need anything.” Finally, she was forced to leave him be, and Jay had never been prouder of his boyfriend.

“I love you,” he whispered roughly, his lips right up next to his ear.

A tiny, tired smirk flickered at the edge of Carlos’ mouth. “Thanks. Me too. Let’s go home.”

 

**x/x**

 

“Were you really gonna jump in that van?”

Jay was sitting on the couch, his feet resting on the coffee table, Carlos curled into his side. They both smelled like smoke and gasoline, and the ringing of the sirens had yet to leave their ears.

“I thought you were still inside that damn thing. No one would tell me where you were. Figured you were trapped or something.”  

Carlos tilted his head up, studying his boyfriend’s face. “Yes, but the van was on fire, Jay. Fire. We both would’ve died.”

“I could’ve gotten us out.” At least, they both hoped so.

“It would’ve been stupid to even try.” The freckled boy shook his head. “Who runs into a burning car?”

“Well, what would you have done?”

“I -” Carlos deflated, shaking his head. “Would’ve gone in. Tried to save you. Would’ve gotten us out. Or died trying.”

“Exactly.” Jay gave out a little sigh, satisfied. “‘Till death do us part, pup.”

“I think that’s marriage.”

“So what? The words still mean the same. Apparently this whole marriage doesn’t always last here anyway and the promise is empty. But I’m talking about us, and our promise, to keep each other alive. So we don’t die. We’re not gonna die, Carlos. We survived that fucking island, your crazy bitch of a mother, my shitty father, you’re not gonna die now on me Carlos de Vil, you’re not.”

“You’re tearing up.” Carlos ran a finger along the clenched jaw of the thief, his voice going quiet. “Hey… hey, I didn’t die, did I? I wouldn’t have left you here alone.”  

The dark-haired boy despised the tight feeling in his throat, the way he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. He hadn’t seemed to have heard Carlos, continuing his tangent in a low voice. “And I don’t care if that’s marriage or just damn loyalty or -”

“How’d you get there so fast anyway?” Carlos asked, rubbing his boyfriend’s shoulder soothingly, trying to distract him.

“They called me.” Jay’s voice was tense to the breaking point, his breath hitching. “And - I came - _holy fuck -_ and no one would tell me what happened to you, no one! I thought…” 

For a moment, Carlos put himself in Jay’s shoes. To get that call. To see that van. And his heart thudded painfully, his mouth going dry. “Well, it wasn’t true,” he finally managed to say. “It’s not true. I’m here. I wasn’t anywhere near the fire.”

“You’re gonna need a new phone screen,” Jay commented quietly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the cracked piece of technology. “This must’ve fallen out of your pocket when you ran.

“Shit,” Carlos sighed. “You bought this phone for me.”

“Well, I’ll buy you a new screen,” he sighed. “It’ll be about the same, right?”

“Yeah.”

“‘Los,” came Jay’s whisper. “Thanks for… not dying.”

“I told you before,” Carlos insisted calmly, his voice steady and smooth. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.” Jay so rarely got rattled like this. He liked to laugh stuff off, burying it as far as he could, hoping it would never resurface. “It’s good, you know. To show your - fear like this.”

“It’s pathetic.”

“No,” Carlos shook his head. “It’s not pathetic. It’s really good. And I’m proud of you, too.”

Pride.

It was something Jay longed for, Carlos knew. He’d seen the way Jay had behaved around his father, desperate for praise. Putting himself in deliberate danger in the hope of getting so much as a simple nod from Jafar.

“Oh come on,” Carlos said, nudging Jay’s shoulder. “You like when I say that, give me a smile.”

“Did you mean it?” The corner of the thief’s mouth twitched.

“Yes. I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t.” Reaching for the TV remote, the freckled boy flicked on the TV.

“It’s late, ‘Los,” Jay commented, though not making any move to stop him.

“I know.” Carlos gave him a little smile. “But this might help you relax a bit.”

Less than twenty minutes later, they were both sound asleep, Carlos’ head on Jay’s shoulder, the movie Jay had been watching earlier still flickering silently on the screen. The thief’s arm was curled tightly around his boyfriend, holding him, praying he’d never have to let go for good.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I say this every time, but thank you so much to those who leave kudos and comments. You guys are really amazing and more motivating than you'll ever know :)


	55. Forgiveness (can you imagine?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys fight

> _“Nothing erases the past. There is repentance, there is atonement, and there is forgiveness. That is all, but that is enough.”_
> 
> _~ Ted Chiang_

* * *

  “Wait, Carlos, why won’t you come?” It came out harsher than Jay had intended and he noticed how fast Carlos recoiled. “You said you would! You promised!”

“Well, I changed my mind. It’s just another one of those parties,” the smaller boy protested coldly. “It’ll be loud and full of your tourney friends and not my style at all.”

“That’s so not true. We went to the club just last week! And you loved it!”

“These parties are different, Jay. It’s not just dancing. I like dancing. What I don’t like are all your tourney friends when they get drunk calling me ‘little guy’ and ‘small queer’ and -”

“I’m really sorry they were teasing you,” Jay sighed. “I’ll make them stop, I won’t let them. We can prank them, even!”

“No.”

“This isn’t just another party,” the thief looked oddly upset. “I promise! I really want you to come! If you hate it, we’ll leave!”  

But Carlos rolled his eyes. “I’m just not up for it. I’m tired of your whole team babying me! I could kick all of their asses. I just don’t have the energy to fight through the crowd tonight and stay annoyingly close to you. Why can’t you understand that? There will be other house parties. I’ll go next week.”  

“I understand, babe, but this party is different, you’ll see. It won’t be like that! Why won’t you listen to me and stop being so sensitive! I’m gonna take care of you! We always look out for each other!”

An icy silence bathed the room and the boys stared at each other. After a long while, Carlos finally turned away. “Go to your party.” His voice was uncharacteristically bitter. “I’ll see you later. When I’m not so _sensitive.”_

Jay left without a kiss.  

 

**x/x**

 

This was the first major fight that he and Jay had had in long, long time.

A real fight, not just an argument over what takeout they should order or the affectionate teasing they both loved so much.

Carlos’ was suddenly aware of a soreness in his throat, and he walked slowly to the kitchen to make tea. As he waited for the water to boil, he glanced at the framed picture he’d insisted on putting up, one of Jay’s tourney portraits from Auradon Prep . The blue fighting knights uniform was familiar, but reminded him too much of Jay’s old team, the ones who had eventually treated him like a person. And before any prejudices about the Isle had been directed at Jay, too, not just him.

The apartment was too quiet now, the ghost of the slammed door still haunting the place. A sudden sound cut through the murky silence and he jumped, his hands coming up to protect his face. But it was just his ringtone, with Evie on the other line.

“Hey, doll,” she sang as the line connected. “What’s up?”

“Uh - nothing in particular.” He tried desperately to keep his voice as normal as possible, but it caught at the very end.

“Hon, you okay?” Evie sounded concerned. “You sound choked up. Are you sick? Do you need me to come up?”

“Uh - no - I’m okay.” Carlos wasn’t okay, but that was what came out of his mouth anyway. He held the phone away from him so he could take a shuddering breath in.

“ _Carlos_ ,” she warned. “Where’s Jay? Can I talk to him?”

“Not -” the freckled boy took another breath. “Not here. He - had a party -”

“Oh, that’s right. The tourney banquet, he was telling me about that. Wait, aren’t you supposed to be there, too?”  

For a moment, Carlos was surprised out of his dejection. “He told you about it?”

“Yes. But don’t try and change the subject, you’re not okay. ” There was muffled thumping come from her line and then - “Mal, I’m going up to see Carlos!”

Mal was saying something, but she was too far away for Carlos to pick up the exact words.

“To check on him,” Evie was insisting. “I’ll be back in a bit. Join us _after_ you’ve eaten and showered, okay?”

The princess was upstairs in less than two minutes, her knock sending a sudden shock up Carlos’ spine. By this point, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

“Carlos.” Evie pulled him into a hug. “What happened? Let’s sit down. You fought, didn’t you?”

In the very back of his mind, the part that wasn’t fighting back tears and replaying their argument, he wondered how she knew. But it was so overshadowed by the other stuff that he just nodded, pushing with all his might against the sob trapped in his throat.

“Oh Carlos.” She kissed his forehead, brushing back a curl. “Is that why you’re not at the banquet?”

His choked gasp was answer enough.

She walked him over to the couch, where she held him for a bit. Whenever he started panicking, the group’s first choice was always Jay. He was the best at talking Carlos down, but in the rare instances where he wasn’t there, Evie was a close second.

“Just breathe,” she instructed. “I’m here, hon, I’m here.”

 

**x/x**

 

The party was not going to be as fun as Jay had hoped.

Mostly thanks to a certain white-haired boyfriend, or the lack of one anyway.

It wasn’t just a party either, as he’d tried to explain, but a _banquet._ At a fancy restaurant and with an awards ceremony and shit, one of which Jay was winning.

“Last name?” The woman at the door scanned her list of RSVPs, barely glancing up at Jay.

“Don’t have one,” he sighed, fidgeting with the tux he’d changed into in his car. “First name is Jay. It might be under de Vil.” He’d started using Carlos’ last name for reservations and food pick-up.

“Party of two?” she asked, finally looking up.

“Just one tonight.”

His eyes fell on individually wrapped peanut butter cups in a glass jar by the hostess  podium and his face felt hot. He could picture what Carlos would do if he saw them, how his eyes would light up, how he’d probably try to smuggle the whole jar in with him.  But the freckled boy wasn’t there, so Jay pocketed a few, hoping, praying that Carlos would accept one later.

The woman didn’t seem to notice Jay’s distraction and led him to a table in the center of the restaurant where he sat, sighing some, already regretting being so harsh to Carlos. It had taken the whole ride over to stop shaking in anger, but now, he was just feeling guilty and boyfriendless.

 _What if he leaves me?_ Jay thought suddenly, his heart picking up its pace. He imagined arriving home to a dark apartment, finding empty closets and a note on the table in Carlos’ handwriting. The dark-haired boy had the sudden urge to run, to drive home, maybe he could catch him before he left.

“Hey, Jay,” his coach said, walking up to clap his shoulder. “You had a great season, young man. We’re lucky to have you.”

“Thanks.” Jay managed a weak smile.

What had he said earlier? _Stop being so sensitive?_ The words burned into his skull and he found he wasn’t hungry anymore.

Everyone was taking their seats, and Jay eventually sank back down into his, hardly listening to the introductions being made.

Sensitive? Sensitive? Could he have been more _insensitive_ to the one person he adored more than anything else in the world?  He’d just wanted Carlos to come see him win, that was all! He hadn’t needed to deliver such a low blow! He should’ve just… explained instead of trying to surprise him.

Glancing down at his notecards, the thief tried to focus on his speech, on how he’d hold the significant trophy, but it all seemed so pointless. If only he’d just walked out the door and let Carlos be, without trying to force him to come.

“Introducing our Rookie of the Year,” the league director was saying at the front, and Jay was forced to pay attention again. He was up. Somehow this moment was nothing like he’d imagined.

 

**x/x**

 

It took almost fifteen minutes for Carlos to stop gasping for breath. Evie stayed with him the whole time, rubbing his shoulders and talking to him softly.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out finally. “This is so lame. I’m sure Jay is having the greatest time in the world at his party.”

“I mean, if you think giving a speech is fun,” the princess shrugged, still rubbing his shoulders a bit. “He was actually kind of nervous, I thought. Wouldn’t ever admit it, but -”

“Speech?” That was news to Carlos. What kind of house party includes a speech? Unless he was announcing a beer pong game or something.

“Yeah.” Evie looked sideways at him. “It’s a banquet. He’s receiving an award. Player of the year or something? Maybe New Player of the Year? Freshman of the Year? Something like that.”

“W-what?”

“You didn't - he didn't tell you?” the princess asked delicately.

“No…” Why hadn’t Jay said anything? Why had the idiot kept it a secret? “I thought it was a party! Not… I would've gone, Evie! I should've gone! He was trying to explain, and I shut him down! Told him that his parties were stupid, God I'm such an idiot! No wonder he kept saying it would be different, why didn’t he tell me?”  

“What… what did he say instead?” Evie already looked a bit apprehensive. She knew Jay had a hard time with criticism, but this was Carlos. He loved Carlos.

“He - he told me that it would be different. That he’d take care of me. And to stop being sensitive.” The freckled boy felt a wave of heat wash over him.

“Fuck that moron,” the blue-haired girl cursed. “He was the one being sensitive. Holy shit, I’m gonna kick his ass -”

But Carlos was shaking his head. “He was hurt. I didn’t want to come to his banquet and see him - but that’s not fair - I didn’t know - he never -”

“I’m gonna kick his ass!” Evie hissed again, pulling out her phone. “He wasn’t being straight with you at all. He does not have the right to say that shit!”

“Please don’t call him.” Carlos’ voice was flat. “I - I need a little time. I’ll talk to him later.”

 

**x/x**

 

“Congratulations, Jay.”

“You deserve it!”

“Good work, kid!”

Jay returned the compliments with smiles and nods. He was good at tourney. He deserved this. Carlos… Carlos should’ve come… right?

 _You’re a shitty person,_ the voice in his head scoffed. _You’re an ass. Trying to force him to come, so you could be celebrated. You’re such an asshole._

The food and the rest of the awards blended together. Even the dessert seemed a little stale (Carlos made way better cake).

“Enjoying the night?” his coach asked as they finished up the meal.

“Yeah. Definitely.” The words felt fake, his smile felt fake, and Jay’s fists curled under the table. How he wished there was someone to punch, someone who really deserved it (other than himself). Instead, his fingers found something else to do, slipping a silver spoon into his pocket in a flash of silver.

 _Fuck not now,_ Jay’s mind sighed, feeling the weight of the cutlery in his pocket. _You can’t take this. Put it back._

But his fingers wouldn’t comply.  

When the stream of conversation finally dwindled and Jay was able to slip out the door, he caught the eye of the hostess as he left.

“Have a nice night,” she smiled, sizing him up slightly. “Your other party never showed, huh? What a shame.” He’d never felt more disgusting as a human being.

_You’re shit, you’re not worth shit, he’s long gone by now. Long gone._

As he pulled into their apartment complex, Jay glanced up, trying to figure out which window was theirs, trying to find a light, a movement, anything to reassure himself.

Jay climbed the stairs at a crawl, ignoring the elevator, a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn't have stayed so long, what had he been thinking? Any chance he had of stopping Carlos from fleeing was long gone.

The key in the lock slid slowly and he let himself inside, setting the trophy down on the counter with a heavy thunk. The lights were on, but he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad one. His eyes immediately found the table, searching for a note, but it only held a stack of Carlos’ papers and his computer, plugged in and charging.

 _He’s still here,_ Jay realized, both relieved and anxious at the same time.

“Oh, look who’s back,” a voice sighed, it’s owner sitting up on the couch.

“Eves? What -” the thief walked over, frowning. “What are you doing here?”

“You were a dick,” she said coldly.

“Yeah.” There wasn’t an argument there. “But - I wanted him to come, I just wanted him to come!”

“He had no idea you were winning an award.” The princess watching, the ice in her features melting some. “You didn’t tell him it was a banquet, and then made an uncalled for and absolutely callous remark about his sensitivity that I know you didn’t mean! Why do you do this to yourself?”

“I don’t now.” The dark-haired boy looked down, miserable. “I wanted… it’s so stupid, I wanted to surprise him. I wanted…” He never finished the sentence, but Evie understood.

“Him to be proud of you?” She raised an eyebrow, looking at him. “He is. You should’ve just told him why you wanted him there instead of acting like a little bitch. Now you look like the bad guy.”  

“Yeah.” Jay felt heavy, heavier than the time he’d downed an entire bottle of hard cider when he was fifteen and nearly fallen off the roof. “Where… where is he?”

“Sleeping, hopefully.” Evie took a long inhale, then stood. “He went to bed a few hours ago. M was up here for awhile, but I promised Carlos I wouldn’t leave until you came home, whenever the hell that would be. And now you’re home, so I’ll be going now. I’d suggest sleeping on the couch. Oh and Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fuck this up,” she sighed. “Please. Please, please, I’ve never seen him so happy. Think before you speak, communicate, please.”  

“I’ll try.”

 

**x/x**

 

It was still dark when Carlos’ eyes fluttered opened.

There was a draft and an unexplainable emptiness beside him that also took up residence in his chest. After a moment of bleary-eyed confusion, the previous night’s events came back to him.

_Jay._

That’s who was missing, that’s why the bed felt too big and the sheets strangely still (he hadn’t had to fight the thief for blankets). Carlos remembered Evie singing him softly to sleep, remembered using Jay’s pillow instead of his own, still angry, but too tired to justify his need for the older boy’s scent.

Carlos was used to waking up in the middle of the night for nightmares, but his dreams had been muted tonight, dull and without any color. No, what had woken him up was the sound of banging from down the hall, a series of grunts followed by low, pained noises.

Slipping out of bed and grabbing the knife he kept on the bedside table, the freckled boy hovered in the shadows of the hallway. He didn’t quite know what to expect, but after a moment, realized the knife was unnecessary for now. It was just Jay, moving restlessly on the couch.

 _He’s having a nightmare,_ Carlos realized.

“Jay?” The freckled boy padded over to the couch, sitting down on the coffee table. “Hey, Jay, wake up. Wake up, this isn’t real.”

Jay threw out a hand, his eyes opening and darting around wildly, gasping like those old fish flopping helplessly on the island docks. Carlos didn’t like to think of the older boy as helpless.  “ _What the fuck, who the fuck,”_ he was hissing. “What’s happening? Don’t move!”  

“Shh…” Carlos sighed, coming closer, running a gentle hand over his shoulder. “Just a nightmare, you’re still here.”

The thief blinked blearily, trying to focus on his boyfriend and not the wild images still flashing behind his eyelids. “I thought… why are you here…. you’re still mad at me.”

“I am. And we still need to talk. But I’m not cruel. I don’t want you to suffer or anything.”

At that, Jay looked more stunned, his jaw working overtime. “You… even after?”

“Evie told me you won an award,” Carlos sighed, rubbing his arms.  

“I did.”

Silence. The boys sighed in unison, looking down and around and anywhere but each other.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the freckled boy asked finally. “I would’ve gone. I thought it was just a stupid house party, not an awards ceremony. I would’ve gone. I would’ve gone, Jay.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” the thief answered dully. “I thought - it could be like a  date. I take you out, you… see me win… it’s so stupid, I’m so -”

“Don’t beat yourself up, makes it worse.” Carlos looked over at him for half a second. “You were an asshole today. But I was too.”

“What did you do?” Jay raised an eyebrow. “You -”

“Told you that your party was stupid, I flaked on you, after you told me how much you wanted me there,” his boyfriend finished. “Even if I didn’t know what kind of party it was.”

“But I told you to stop being sensitive.” The words still tasted bitter in Jay’s mouth and he screwed up his face. “I - if you didn’t want to come, I shouldn’t have made you feel badly. I - would’ve offered to stay in with you, you know I don’t care about those stupid tourney parties! You’re way more important, dammit!”

Although he’d gotten better, Jay still sucked at apologies, so as far as Carlos was concerned, this was one of his better ones.

“It’s going to be okay. Look -”

But Jay wasn’t done, shaking his head, his messy hair tossed about his shoulders. His words were coming fast, half in English, half in Arabic, as the desperately tried to work his way around to the dreaded “I’m sorry”.

“Shhh.” Finally, Carlos just put his arms around him, hugging him, inhaling that scent he’d wanted so badly earlier. “I’m not mad anymore. I’m not mad.”

“You should be.” Jay allowed himself to be hugged, though. It felt nice.

“I just wanna hear ‘I’m sorry’,” the white-haired boy told him softly. “I am too, you know. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to see you win, I’m so sorry I flaked, I’m sorry I made you feel unimportant.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to follow that?” the older boy muttered. “You’re way better at apologies.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Sorry, Carlos,” Jay sighed at last. “I’m sorry I was an insensitive ass.”

The freckled boy snorted softly. “That’s putting it lightly, fuckwad.”

Jay held Carlos tightly, finally planting a little kiss in his hair. He didn’t know why this boy had forgiven him, but he had. He had and that was all that mattered now.

“Evie said you gave a speech,” Carlos murmured gently as they lay down on the couch.

“Yeah.”

“Can you give it for me tomorrow?” Exhaustion was weighing down the smaller boy’s words as Jay put one leg over his hip and held him close. “I’ll present you the trophy… and then it’ll be like I was there all along.”

A small smile curled Jay’s lips as his eyes fell shut. “M’kay. Sounds good, Pup. For the record, you’re not sensitive.”

“I am.”

“But - it’s okay! That's the thing, it's not a bad thing. It's just... a thing.” Jay raked his fingers through Carlos' curls, causing the younger to arch slightly against him, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

"It's not bad?"

"No, baby, no. It's just a part of us. I'm sensitive too, clearly. It sucks to admit. I'm so sorry I made you wrong for it."

“It's okay. Sorry for flaking. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter didn't paint either one of them as "wrong" or "right". Every healthy relationship fights or disagrees and it's important for them to know how to apologize and forgive. That's what this chapter was trying to convey :)


	56. Sexting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys mess around online

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, three chapters in a week? Am I finally get my act together? And not totally procrastinating? Wow!  
> Hope ya'll enjoy this slightly dirtier chapter ;)

_“In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.”_

_~ Madeline Miller_

* * *

 

Suggestive texts were quickly becoming Carlos favorite type of communication.

The best part was imagining Jay’s reaction. The girls had told him (in confidence) that Jay, who rarely blushed, would turn bright red with his hair falling over his face to hide the flush whenever the message popped up on his screen. And quickly find the nearest bathroom.

One Saturday afternoon, Carlos was sitting at the island in the kitchen, bored and _missing his boyfriend._ Away games were the worst, he’d discovered. He could do a night without Jay, but sometimes tournaments were two or three nights, depending on which kingdom they were traveling. And it sucked.

 

_Hey hot stuff._

 

He smirked at the screen, his legs swinging happily against the barstool. There was a “read” response almost immediately, and Carlos’ smirk grew wider. He started typing again, his fingers flying across the screen.

 

_Am I on your mind, babe? Wanna know what I would do if you were here?_

 

The freckled boy waited excitedly for his boyfriend’s response, which was just one little emoticon. A tongue. Carlos felt his own cheeks heating up, and he bit his lip.

 

_Don’t you know it, baby. I bet you want that right now you know where._

 

**x/x**

 

Carlos was going to be the death of him.

Jay’s hotel room felt too clean for the words on the screen. Carlos’ texts shouldn’t even be in the same proximity as the crisp, white sheets.

“Dude, your face is bright red,” his roomate commented, raising an eyebrow. “Watching something?”

“Nope.” Jay shook his head. “Just… got a tease of a boyfriend sometimes.”

“Did he send pictures?”

_Wouldn’t you like to know?_

The thief faced the phone away from the other bed. “My eyes only. Get yourself a guy as good as mine and we’ll talk.”

“I’m straight.”

Jay just nodded, shrugging. “Well, then looks like I win by default.”

_And I would’ve won anyway. There’s no one like Carlos in the whole world._

He could already picture Carlos in their apartment, drunk on the excitement of teasing Jay, half dressed and smiling like the world would never end.

“Well fuck,” Jay mumbled, a smile tugging at his lips too, quickly typing out a response.

“Isn’t your boyfriend super shy or something?” His roommate was watching some TV show on his computer, but it was clear he was focused on the thought of Jay’s messages.

“No, oh hell no.” The-dark haired boy was tired of explaining it to everyone. Carlos was guarded, not shy.  

“Well then, what’s he saying?”

“That he loves me.”

_And my dick._

By some stroke of luck, Jay’s roommate decided to leave the room. Maybe he was uncomfortable or wanted to give them some space or was just hungry, which were all plausible reasons that left the hotel room blissfully empty. And Jay was dying to hear Carlos’ voice; he loved when it got all husky and triumphant.

 

_Call me ;)_

 

Jay waited, and a moment later, the phone rang.

“Hey,” Carlos breathed out.

“God, what is wrong with you?” Jay was laughing, already picturing the shit-eating grin on his boyfriend’s face.

“With me?” Carlos voice was still low, but the laughter on the edges reminded Jay exactly who was on the other line: the guy he adored, not a random hooker. “I’m innocent!”

“Oh,” the thief snorted. “We are _so_ beyond innocent. If anyone finds these messages, we’re toast. You’re so lucky no one was sitting behind me!”

“Aw,” his boyfriend said. “That just makes it more fun, baby.”

“Sure.”

There was a pause on the other end, a soft giggle, and then - “Wanna FaceChat me?”

“Are you dressed?”

More silence. “Why don’t you find out?”

 

**x/x**

 

Evie had finished both the boy’s new jackets, and she was proud. Jay’s was rugged and durable, while Carlos’ was fabulous and eccentric. Tailored impeccably in both attitude and fit for her boys.

Draping them lovingly over her arm, she looked at the time. Jay would still be away, but most likely Carlos was home. And she was _dying_ to show these off.

“Mal,” she trilled, ducking her head into the kitchen. “I’m going to go see Carlos.”

“Fashion fangirling or something?” Mal was halfway through her third slice of chocolate-strawberry cake.

“Yes!” Evie motioned to the jackets. “I finished his and Jay’s new jackets and I just can’t wait to show _someone who actually appreciates style.”_

“I take offense to that,” Mal drawled lazily, raising an eyebrow. “My style is bitchin’, thank you very much.”

“The only bitch here is you,” the princess commented affectionately. “You can come up if you want. Carlos and I would love to block out your snarky commentary while we try to talk.”

“Hey, if I’m a bitch you are too,” the purple-haired fairy called as Evie left the room. “Hey! Answer me! Agree that you’re a bitch!”

Evie just laughed. She took the stairs, despite her heels, too excited to wait for their building’s (slow to a fault) elevator.

Sliding the boy’s key out of her purse, she unlocked the door and burst in.

“Carlos! I - _oh holy fuck, boys a little warning!”_

The freckled boy quickly grabbed a blanket off the couch where he was lying and covered himself. “Evie! Don’t just walk in! Why didn’t you - how’d you get a key - fuck, this is Jay’s fault! Blame Jay!”

From the other end, Jay’s hysterical laughter filled the room. “You can check the messages, Eves,” he chuckled. “It was definitely ‘Los who started this.”

Recovering from her initial shock, Evie just shook her head. “It’s not like I haven’t seen all of you both before. ” On the island, “cleaning each other up” often required more than just a few bandages.

“Still.” Carlos’ face was still bright pink, the color traveling to his neck and ears as well.

“Next time maybe knock or shit.” Jay was still laughing. “I’m guessing you need to go now, pup?”

“Um…” Evie looked down at the jackets in her arms. “It’s - it’s okay. I just have your jackets, but I can come back…”

“Let us see!” The freckled boy kept the blanket wrapped around himself, but sat up excitedly. “You finished already? That was so fast!”

Excitement renewed, the princess beamed, holding up the two pieces. “Yes! Okay, Jay, it’s actually great that you’re on call, I can show you yours now too! It has removable sleeves, of course, and I made it with sturdier leather.”

“Dope,” the thief laughed as Carlos held up the phone so he could see it. “Thanks, Blue, it looks amazing.”

“Hopefully you won’t rip it quite so quickly this time.” The princess shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it. And Carlos, yours is -”

“Black, white, and red!” the freckled boy exclaimed happily, leaping up (holding the blanket to his body) and examining the jacket. “I love the zippers.”

“Those gave me such a hard time,” she laughed, tossing her hair. “Little shits.”

“Jay look!” Carlos was holding up the jacket for the camera, slipping it on and spinning around once.

There was a wolf whistle from Jay’s end, and the freckled boy collapsed on the couch in a fit of laughter, his cheeks still pink and hair tousled.

Evie watching, smiling to herself. Happy boys were her favorite boys.

After a few more minutes, she left them to finish what they’d started, pecking Carlos’ cheek and blowing a kiss to Jay.

“E? You back already?” Mal called when she heard the door open.

“Yep!” The princess found the pixie in the living room.

“How was it?”

“They loved them.”

Mal raised an eyebrow. “They? Is Jay back already?”

“Not exactly.” Evie flushed again, laughing. “Walked in on them messing around over FaceChat.”

“Oh fucking nasty.” The purple-haired girl cackled, shaking her head. “They’re like rabbits or something.”

“I know, right?”

“It’s nothing we haven’t seen before, though,” the pixie grinned, giving her a look.

“That’s exactly what I said.”

 

And upstairs, Carlos had dragged a table against the door just in case anyone else with a key tried to get in, and finally let the blanket drop again.

_“Now where were we?”_

 


	57. Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys discover there's multiple meanings of the word.

>   _“there's nothing more intimate in life than simply being understood. And understanding someone else.”_
> 
> _― Brad Meltzer_

* * *

 Carlos opened the door to the apartment and set his bag down by the counter, spotting the familiar head of wild dark hair on the couch.

“Hey, ‘Los.” Jay’s voice was scratchy, like he’d been about to fall asleep.

“Hey.” Coming over to lean over the back of the couch, Carlos planted a kiss on top of Jay’s head. “Sorry I’m so late. I had to stay and close up the shelter. You look tired, did I wake you up?”

Pushing some of the books and papers off his lap, Jay leaned up to kiss Carlos again. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have been sleeping anyway. Got a big term paper due in two days.” Jay noticed the smug little smile on his boyfriend’s face and groaned. “No, no, do not lecture me about procrastinating, I’m doing the best I can!”

“I wasn’t gonna!”

“Uh huh,” Jay yawned. “I saw that face. I meant to get it done sooner, but I’ve been so busy.”

Carlos smiled, shaking his head. “Hey, Jay?”

“Mmm?” his boyfriend looked up from the couch with a sleepy little hum.

“I know we said we were gonna finally have a date night, but… do you wanna just cuddle for a bit and see how we feel after?” Carlos loved that sleepy little smile of Jay’s, even if they had planned other things for the night. Between school and tourney, there just weren’t enough hours in the day or energy in their bodies to get to it all. And besides, Jay was really cuddly when he was half asleep.

Jay nodded, moving over some to make some space, wrapping his arms securely around the smaller boy’s waist as soon as he settled down. The older boy would be asleep in a few minutes, Carlos knew. So he busied himself with tracing slow, deliberate patterns up Jay’s tan arms, lightly across the bruises from tourney, lining the tattoos he’d practically memorized. His hands traveled up the base of his neck and to his hair, threading the strands through his fingers as Jay let out a soft purr-like noise of appreciation.

“You like that?” Carlos laughed softly, enjoying the warmth of the thief’s skin.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Want me to keep going?”

“Mmmmhmm.”

“You’re gonna fall asleep, aren’t you?” Carlos smiled fondly down at him.

“Nah uh, ‘Los.”

“Then why are your eyes closed?” the white-haired boy teased gently. “You look pretty tired to me.”

“‘M awake.”

 _I’m here,_ Carlos thought.  _It’s okay to sleep, I’ll protect us._

And at that moment, he felt just as satisfied seeing his boyfriend fall asleep as he would if they’d finished a sexy night.

_How strange._

 

**x/x**

 

“What the _hell,_ Jay!”

Carlos leaned out of the shower, eyeing the floor which was now absent of his neatly folded towel and clothes.

A familiar chuckle came from behind the door and his boyfriend stepped into the bathroom, smirking. “Did your stuff go missing or something?”

“Damn you!” The freckled boy groaned, flipping him off. “Give ‘em back, dude!”

“I don’t have them.”

“Jay!”

The thief’s smirk took over his whole face, and Carlos didn’t know whether to smack or kiss it off.

“You’re a dick,” the freckled boy said, nearly toppling out of the shower. “I need a towel, at least!”  

“Is that so?” Jay was still leaning on the door, grinning.

“Are you gonna make me walk all the way down the hall to our room naked?”

“Well… as tempting as that would be…” Jay winked, giving him a little smile. “Because you’re so damn cute, I’ll make you a deal.”

“What’s the price, perv?”

“A kiss.”

Carlos roll his eyes. “How many?”

The thief just raised an eyebrow. “You’re willing to pay multiple, are you?”

“Fuck.”

“And fuck?”

His boyfriend laughed. “No, I meant fuck, as in, fuck I walked into this fucking trap and now my fucking boyfriend is being a fucker.”

“Think you could’ve used ‘fuck’ more times?”

“Just hand me the towel!” The freckled boy stretched an arm out. “Here.”

Jay finally complied, but not before swooping in for a kiss. With the towel wrapped securely around his waist, Carlos finally stepped out of the shower to embrace his boyfriend.

“Is someone being shy?” Jay teased, twirling a wet strand of white hair around his finger.

“No,” Carlos snorted, his cheeks coloring. “I was _cold,_ asshole. In case you can’t tell, I’m all wet.”

“Me too.”

“But you didn’t sho -” And then Carlos growled, hitting Jay’s chest. “Oh, you horny fuckwad.”

Laughing, Jay doged the next hit. “Hey! Hey, you totally set me up for that one!”

“Not my problem!”

And as Jay’s laughter echoed warmly up and down the hallway, Carlos paused again, that same, overwhelming sense of closeness developing him like the shower steam had a few minutes before.

He recognized that feeling, the same one he’d felt on the couch the other night with Jay half asleep. And even though he didn’t quite know what it was exactly, not yet anyway, Carlos decided that he liked it.

 

**x/x**

 

“Evie what is this shit?” Mal had her hands on her hips, standing at the counter in the kitchen. “Boys, what is she making you watch?”

“It’s basically soft porn,” Jay called over his shoulder.

“It’s a romance movie!” Evie was indigent, tossing her curls over her shoulders. “Learn to appreciate the art!”

“Oh yeah, Jay, like our first time getting laid with each other totally looked like that,” Carlos snorted, and even Evie laughed this time. “The candles and the lingerie. He looked great in lace, let me tell you.”  

“Okay,” Evie admitted, rolling her eyes. “So maybe it’s not _realistic -”_

“Realistic?” Jay scoffed, raising his eyebrows. “Who the fuck just starts having sex without talking about it first and _then calls it love?_ ” He got a pillow to the face in response, which only made him more determined to get his point across. “Princess, I’m just saying! Hook-ups are one thing, I’ve had my fair share, but this - no, I’m serious! Evie! This is not - hey! Bitch, throw another pillow and I will not hesitate to fight back!”

And although Mal had her back turned to the couch now, taking the dinner out of the oven, from the sounds and playful screams, it seemed Evie hadn’t heeded his warnings. “Wait,” she turned back to them, watching their antics with amusement. “Boys, when did you actually fuck each other for the first time?”

Carlos’ cheeks bloomed with color and Jay chuckled, still invested in his matchup with the princess. “Well it wasn’t in the shower after walking into the wrong hotel room, or in the pouring rain in the middle of a fucking field like these morons seem to think it was. By the way, shower sex? Not as great as it sounds.”

“I admitted these movies weren’t realistic!” Evie shrieked, throwing another pillow. “Let me live my life!”

“You guys have yet to answer my question.” Mal began dishing out plates, shaking her head.

“It was after milkshakes, actually,” Carlos finally explained, shaking his head as Jay launched several pillows in Evie’s direction. “After that play, we went out, came home, and…  things went from there. Obviously we’d discussed it before.”

“And during!” Jay cut in, ducked as another throw sailed past his head.

“How was it?” The purple-hair girl couldn’t help asking. No one on the island had been shy about that stuff.

Carlos’ cheeks turned a darker shade of pink, but he still thought about it for a moment. “Not our best time, obviously, but not horrible. I remember a lot of laughing.”

Momentarily pausing his pillow war with Evie, Jay glanced over at his boyfriend, laughing. “Good enough for you to want to do it again.” Evie took his temporary distraction as an opportunity to club him over the head with another cushion.

“Truth.” And as Carlos watched Jay wrestling playfully with Evie, glanced back at Mal serving up dinner, a strange thought crossed his mind.

He remembered what the island had taught them about closeness. Arrangements, not relationships, agreements bound by personal pleasure, nothing more, nothing less.

Sex, like everything on the Isle, was supposed to be dirty, dark, and _wild._

But this… this was something else, something different entirely, that went way beyond anything he could’ve ever prepared himself for.

 

Intimate, he finally decided. This was intimacy. Not quite the kind they’d grown up with, they weren’t naked or making obscene noises, but still… there was no other way to describe this.

 _How would I have ever known,_ Carlos thought in awe. _How could I have known that there was another side to that word?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GEEZ IT'S BEEN AGES GUYS  
> (seriously there's no excuse)  
> find me on tumblr and yell at me (I'm @unapologeticallyjaylos)


	58. Mother's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which mother's day is(n't) just another day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this story!! I promise I'll keep updating it! It just might take awhile :)

> _“We are all broken and wounded in this world. Some choose to grow strong at the broken_
> 
> _places.”_
> 
> _~ Harold J. Duarte-Bernhardt_

* * *

 “Two Venti doubleshots on ice for Carlos!”

Carlos picked up the drinks and swung out the coffeeshop door, taking a sip from one. He nursed the coffee as he walked, hoping the caffeine would be enough to get him through today.

_It’s just a day. Just another day._

Across the street, he tried his hardest to ignore a little boy and his mother, who were sitting down to eat on a restaurant patio, joining the hundreds of other little boys and mothers who were doing the same. Carlos averted his eyes.

 _It’s not their fault_ , he reminded himself. _And it’s not yours._

Still, the halfway reassurances did nothing for the pit in his stomach.

_Oh darling, Mommy misses her little pet. Don’t you want to come home, precious? Let me look at those little spots. They taunt, me darling, they do. Come home, pet, there’s so much to do -_

A sudden noise cut through the sound of his mother’s voice. His ringtone. Carlos’ fished it out, glad forth the distraction, and smiled when he saw who was calling. “Morning, Jay.”

“I just figured out what day it was,” his boyfriend said, sounding slightly panicked. “Carlos, where are you?”

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to worry you,” the freckled boy apologized. “I went out to get us coffee. We need some groceries. I was going to run to the drugstore too; we’re out of -.”

“I would’ve gone with you!” Jay cried, sighing on the other end. “You should’ve woken me up. None of us should be alone today. I guarantee you the girls aren’t leaving each other’s sides today. You should’ve woken me up.”

“You looked tired,” the white-haired boy cut in with a little laugh. “So I let you sleep. Really, I’m okay. I can’t let her keep me from living my life. It’s just a day.”

“A bad day,” Jay said softly. “Come home, ‘Los. We can go out together this afternoon. Please.”

That anxious sound to Jay’s voice hadn’t faded yet, and Carlos paused to pay closer attention. The older boy’s tone dipped down, trailing off into a needy silence, and that’s when Carlos knew. Jay hadn’t called simply out of concern; his panic wasn’t rooted in Carlos’ absence. No, it wasn’t Carlos who needed Jay at the moment. In fact, it was the other way around.

It was Jay who needed Carlos.

 

“Alright. I’m on my way.”  

 

**x/x**

 

 

Jay knew what today was.

And he didn’t like it.  

Hanging up the phone with Carlos, he glanced in the mirror, his hand coming up to touch the earring he always wore. The red jewel carefully encrusted on the metal had been hers. His mother’s. Or… so his father had told him. Apparently, he’d made all of her _payments_  into jewelry to sell, always to sell (though, secretly, Jay figured they probably weren’t real - nothing on the island was). He’d only ever gotten his hands on one piece, though, before his father had sold it off. This one. His earring. And he’d worn it almost every day since.

Jay never met his mother, never had any reason to love or hate this celebratory day for her. But he couldn’t help think about her, though. What would she have been like? What would she have sounded like? Would she have hit him like Cruella hit Carlos? Or patronized and preened him like the Evil Queen did to Evie?

 _What were you like,_ Jay wondered, carefully staring at the earring. _Did Dad hurt you, too? Did he get angry? Did he demand submission? Were you scared of him? Did you love me?_

The thief didn’t like how tight his throat had gotten. He hoped Carlos would get home soon.

Not a moment too soon, there was the sound of the lock turning and footsteps in the hall.

“Jay, hey, you okay?” came Carlos’ voice. “You sounded - Jay?”

Jay couldn’t bring himself to turn around, his eyes still fixed on the earring and his own face. The eyes. The hair. The lips.

Cool hands found their way to his shoulders, and Carlos’ face appeared in the mirror beside him. “Hey…”

“I look like her.”

The freckled boy just watched him for a moment before nodding. “Your mother.”

“Yeah. He told me so.” The thief shivered slightly. “Said… I was just as beautiful…”

“Jay.” Carlos’ hands were moving now, gently running over the skin on his back that had gotten too hot. “Your Dad -”

“Was right.” Jay finally tore himself away from the mirror, walking to the closet. From inside, he produced a small bronze key and a box. From the look on Carlos’ face, he could tell the younger boy had questions, but his voice didn’t want to answer at the moment. So he didn’t; he just focused on unlocking it slowly, ever so slowly, and lifting the lid. The photograph inside was faded, curling at the corners, but the fingerprints on the edges told Carlos this was hardly the first time Jay had handled it.

The girl frozen in the frame was _young_ , looking barely twenty-one, if that. She could’ve been a kid in one of their classes. And she was strikingly beautiful, with achingly familiar dark hair. Carlos had run his fingers through it over and over again while hugging her son, stared into those same warm, brown eyes to many times to count. “That’s her.”

And Jay simply nodded.

“She’s beautiful.”

“She’s dead.”

The freckled boy paused, figuring as much. “Jafar?”

“Nah. Suicide.” A visible tremor passed through Jay’s body, his hands nearly fumbling the photo, the only photo he possessed of his mother.

“Well, I might’ve done the same if I had to live with Jafar,” Carlos told him sadly. “He’s a monster.”

“It wasn’t because of my dad.” Jay wouldn’t meet his eyes now.

Glancing inside the box now sitting on the bed, Carlos saw something else. An envelope. “May I?” He didn’t touch it until Jay nodded.

It was a letter. The ink had faded a bit and the signature had gotten smudged, but Carlos read every word. He read it once, twice, another time. His mind conjured up pictures of Jay’s mother, young - too young - selling herself for a bit of money or food. And ultimately snipping the cord of her own life because of the result. The result that was Jay. His Jay.

Carlos understood now. And he almost wished he didn’t. “This is not your fault,” he whispered, wondering why the words had blurred on the page. “Jay, this was not your fault.”

“Yes, it was.” Jay’s voice was void of all emotion. “It was. She damn well says it was! You read it!”

“She’s wrong.” The white-haired boy shook his head. “She’s wrong, Jay, you were a _baby_.”

“And just by existing, I fucking murdered her!” The older boy’s hands were shaking again, his words raw. “If I hadn’t been born, she’d still be alive.”

“You don’t know that. If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been something else, someone else.”

Both boys were quiet for a long time - Jay staring at nothing and Carlos rereading the letter.

“The dagger…” Carlos finally glanced up again, surprised to see Jay’s eyes just as wet as his, despite the anger in his voice. “You -”

“Yeah, I knew.” Jay’s shoulders fell a little. “Perfectly good dagger, wasn’t it?”

A thief-turned prostitute.  Almost too fitting a woman to have created the boy Carlos loved so much.

Jay was trying to pull away now, trying to turn his back to Carlos, trying to put his armor back on. “I’m fucking fine!”

“It’s okay if you’re not.”

“But I am!” Jay’s foot met the wall as he kicked it hard. “I mean, who gives a shit anyway? So she killed herself! Fucking fantastic! She - she killed herself. Because of me.”

“Jayesh,” Carlos whispered, using his real name, the name written in ink by his mother. Maybe the first and last time she’d ever done so. “Look at me.”

It took several seconds before Jay lifted his eyes, finally meeting Carlos’.

“Jayesh.” Carlos whispered it against the older boy’s lips. A hot tear had somehow slipped out during the son of Jafar’s angry outburst, rolling down his tanned cheek. Carlos reached up to wipe it away. He felt like crying too, not for Jay’s mother, no, but for the boy who had blamed himself all these years. “You didn’t ask to be born. You didn’t ask for any of this. But it happened anyway. You’re stronger than her. You lived with that man. You escaped that man. You’re stronger.”

“I thought about doing it,” Jay’s voice cracked. “I found that letter in Dad’s things. With the dagger and the picture and  - I thought about using it.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But what if I had?”

“What if they’d never locked our parents up? What if our parents had never lost? What if the world exploded when Maleficent won? Who knows. No one knows.”

Jay stared at the photograph again. “She sold herself. To my dad. And he - I was -”

Carlos nodded, whispering as many soothing things as he could think of, his lips pressed gently to Jay’s ear. He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t make that ragged _hurt_ go away. And maybe that was okay.

“Fucking selfish,” the taller boy spat miserably. “I’m over here having a tantrum about a mother that barely existed, and yours was a raving lunatic that made your actual life hell.”

“Hey!” Carlos stared up at him. “Dude, it’s fine. I don’t give a fuck about Cruella. We already know she was a shit mom. We don’t know what your mother was or wasn’t. I do know that she missed out on having the best guy in the world as her son. For sure.”

Jay didn’t answer - he barely made eye-contact - but Carlos didn’t mind the silence. Sometimes words weren’t necessary.

“Someday, you’ll be a much better father than Jafar ever was,” the freckled boy promised softly before realized what he’d said.

The older boy stilled at that, pausing. “What?”

“I mean - someday - right? Unless you weren’t planning on ever  -” Oh, shit, Carlos had opened a door that might be even more painful.

“Nah, I just - never thought about it,” Jay assured him weakly. “Maybe a little. Always figured I’d fuck up a kid if I ever had one.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Carlos paused. “But… maybe someday… with you… I’d be okay with taking that chance?”

The tiniest flicker of a smile ghosted behind Jay’s eyes. It didn’t quite make it to his lips, but he brought Carlos in for a hug anyway. “Yeah. Yeah, Los, I think that would be good. I’d like that. Happy Mother’s Day, alright?”  

“Happy Mother’s Day, Jay.”

 


	59. The Proposal Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys buy some rings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? I semi-quick update? Who am I?   
> :) :) :)   
> okay, I thought it was time for this major two-part chapter.... I hope you guys enjoy! Happy New Year!

> _ “To be fully seen by somebody, then, and be loved anyhow - this is a human offering that can border on miraculous.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Elizabeth Gilbert _

* * *

 

“I think I’m going crazy.” The whisper came out rough and, well, terrified. Not exactly how Jay had hoped it to sound. 

“Why are you calling me?” Mal sounded less than thrilled, which was pretty much normal. 

“I just told you,” Jay insisted, willing himself not to look at the box on the table. “I’m going crazy. Lapse in judgment. Out of my mind. Stop me when you feel like it.” 

“I wish you’d stopped before you even picked up the phone,” his friend said sarcastically. “I was in the middle of beating Evie at cards. I’m damn good at this game.” In the background, Jay could hear Evie’s voice insisting that Mal had cheated. Which he didn’t doubt for a moment. But this time, he couldn’t let Evie distract her. 

“No, no, Mal, I gotta talk to you! I did - a really stupid thing.” 

“You do a lot of stupid things, Jay.” Mal sighed, and there was the sound of arguing on the other end. “No - Eves - don’t look at my cards! I will cut you!”  

Sighing, the dark-haired boy glanced around the apartment while the girls dueled it out. The late afternoon sunlight cast a nice, sleepy sort of warmth around the place, and Jay would’ve considered taking a nap or turning on the TV if it weren’t for the thing on the table. Staring at him. Waiting for him to -

“Jay, are you still there?” 

His head snapped up. “Sorry. Yes. I’m still here.” 

“Isn’t today Saturday?” Mal asked. “Shouldn’t you and Carlos be, I don’t know, having sex or something? Sleeping? Doing things that normal people do on Saturdays?” 

“Oh, like playing cards?” Jay made a face, even if she couldn’t see it. “For your information, Carlos is working. Unlike you, we don’t have endless amounts of time to flip decks.” 

“Fuck off. I’m hanging up.” 

“I bought a ring!” Jay was pretty sure the building across the street heard his shout. The room seemed to get even quieter, but after a moment, he realized it was only because Mal had stopped talking. “Are you -” 

“ _ Yes, I’m still here,”  _ she hissed. “Sorry, Evie was trying to cheat again. What did you say? Something about a ring? Did you steal it? From who? And when can I have it -” Mal was cut off by a scream on the other end.

“JAY, YOU DID WHAT?! MAL GIVE ME THE PHONE! GIVE - OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKES, MAL -” Evie’s voice suddenly came closer; Jay figured she’d grabbed the phone. “Okay, okay, Jay, did I hear you right?” 

“Well, I’m pretty sure Carlos himself heard me down at the shelter, so…” Jay scratched the back of his neck, his gaze finally fixing on the black velvet box resting so innocently on the table. 

“You bought a ring, right?” Evie sounded breathless. “Oh, please, please, please, tell me that it’s what I think it is.” Before Jay could even think about answering, she squealed again. “It’s an engagement ring, right? The real kind? The Auradon kind? The kind our parents liked to brag about having collections of from all the weddings they’d crashed, and grooms they’d seduced?” 

“Eves, I’m pretty sure that was just your mother,” Jay assured her. “But… yeah, I bought a ring. You can tell Mal that I bought it. With money. Even though I know Carlos would like a stolen one just as much.” 

“He would,” the blue-haired girl laughed excitedly. “Oh, I’m so excited. You have to tell me what he says. He’s gonna say yes. Of course he’ll say yes.” 

“Is it too soon?” 

“What?” Evie actually snorted. “Jay, you’ve been going out for years. And you’re both grown-ass men now. You’ve been living together for, well, years. So, no. I think you’re fine. Wonderful. Right on schedule. Does love have a schedule?” She sounded so out of breath anyone listening would’ve thought  _ she’d  _ be the one considering marriage. 

“Yeah, okay. But, Eves, isn’t all this so… Auradon?” Jay couldn’t help shuddering some. “The rings and the promises and the vows and shit?” 

On the other end, Evie paused. “Well, people didn’t really do the whole life-long partners thing on the island, so I guess so. But it’s not necessarily a bad thing to be romantic sometimes. In fact, I saw him braiding your hair the other day. That’s romantic, right?” 

“I know.” Jay tugged on his hair. “It’s just… we’re not living a classic love story. We didn’t meet and fall in love and now want live happily-ever-after. It’s been really hard. We’ve fought for everything we’ve got right now, despite Auradon’s stupid-ass prejudices, and I - I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right to just… pretend we’re normal.” 

“So… you don’t want to propose?” 

“No, no, I think I do.” Jay fidgeted with his hands, frustrated. “It's just - I know that it’s supposed to be a really romantic thing. And yeah, I want to spend the rest of my life with him and all that. But… it just feels… wrong. Like that kind of happy, bright even doesn’t belong in my life. In our lives.” 

“I hear that.” Evie hummed for a moment, thinking. “Well, why did you even go get a ring in the first place?”

“That's what I'm telling you: I went crazy.” Jay opened the box slowly, studying the ring. The sunlight reflected off its dark metal. “I woke up this morning, and he was getting ready to go to the shelter and - for a moment, anyway - the Isle and everything else that we struggle with everyday kind of…. fell away. We felt nice. Domestic. And I don't know what happened, I really don't. I just… did it.”

“Was it expensive?” came Mal from somewhere on the other end. When he didn’t answer, she practically growled. “Jay! Talk!” 

“Okay, okay, shit,” the dark-haired boy groaned. “I  _ may  _ have charged a lot on my credit card. Like a lot. But you should see the ring, Eves, it’s perfect for him. It’s a really old ring, okay? And it’s got this dark metal band with silver borders because he’s, you know, the fucking silver lining of my fucking life and all that Auradon bullshit.” 

“Jay.” Evie’s voice had gone soft. “That doesn’t sound like Auradon bullshit to me. That sounds really, really sweet. You can let yourself feel things, you know that right? And I like that you picked an old ring. You’re both old souls.” She took a moment, and Jay could almost see her gathering herself. “So… you’re really gonna propose to him, huh?” 

“Well… yeah.”  Now Jay took a moment to keep his voice steady and confident. “Not like tomorrow, but maybe in a couple months now that I’ve finally finished my degree.”  

“You guys… we’re getting so old,” Evie half-laughed and half whined, her smile showing up just as clearly in her voice as it would’ve in person. “God, we’re all gonna get real jobs and cars and lives and where did the time go?” She seemed to be reminiscing for a moment, the line going quiet. “I think you should do it, Jay,” Evie told him at last. “I think you should propose when you both figure out what your plan is for your lives moving forward. Forget about the money, and the other stuff for the time being. He makes you happy.” 

Happy. Jay didn't think happiness was something that lasted. But he supposed Carlos had lasted; Carlos hadn't walked out on him or kicked him out. 

“Hey, look,” Mal observed from the background. “Jay is finally being vulnerable. Pop the champagne, everybody.” 

“I'm hanging up!” Jay fumbled with the phone as Mal laughed. He still had doubts. Many, many doubts. Maybe the ring would jinx it. Maybe promising to love someone was stupid. Maybe it only made things hurt more when they finally faded back to grey. 

Or … maybe Evie was right. Maybe Carlos made him happy. 

_ I think I’ll do it,  _ Jay thought (his stomach only dropping out a tiny bit).  _ I think I wanna marry Carlos de Vil. To hell with Auradon and their crap. I’ll propose or whatever the hell.  _

  
  


**x/x**

  
  


Sometimes, the mess got to be too much for Carlos. 

He loved Jay, he really did, but  _ he was a slob.  _ Clothes littered the bedroom floor, the bathroom floor, the hallway floor. He left the toothpaste uncapped and the toilet seat up. He usually forgot to hang up his towel, too, and instead left it in a wet, sad heap on the floor. And Carlos usually let it slide. But some days, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He had to clean up, he had to straighten things, he had to fix the mess. So, armed with his sponge and bucket and mop, Carlos would scour the entire apartment in an afternoon until it looked like Jay had never set foot in the place. Today was one of those days. 

“Dude, does he really have to leave his underwear on the floor?” 

From his place on the (neatly made) bed, Dude yipped in agreement. He always did. 

“I mean, sure, he’s cute.” Carlos rolled his eyes, smiling a little. “But I swear, he makes a bigger mess in one week than a whole group of children could make in a year.” 

Picking up a jacket, Carlos muscled aside the closet door - hoping to find Jay’s side at least halfway decent. A monster greeted him. Shirts and hangers and sweatshirts tumbled down from their lofty perches, and Carlos had to actually jump backwards to avoid being dumped on. 

“For fuck’s sakes!” the white-haired boy yelped. “He and I are going to have a serious conversation when he gets back.” Jay had started a new job last week working for a marketing program for the areas big tourney league. Apparently, sports and business were allowed to mix sometimes, and Carlos had never been more grateful to hear it. Jay seemed to be really enjoying it. 

“I can’t believe we’re like real adults now,” Carlos mused aloud, then paused when he realized how childish it sounded. “Not that we haven’t been little adults our whole lives.” 

As always, his dog listened wonderfully, giving Carlos his absolute attention. That was one of the best things about having a loyal dog; he always had someone to talk to when Jay went out. 

“Also, Jay has too many sweatshirts. They don’t even fit into his closet anymore.” The freckled boy examined a couple, holding them up to himself. “I’m stealing some. Ooh, where’s that cute maroon one he used to wear all the time?” 

Temporality abandoning his cleaning regime, Carlos dug through the piles of clothes, looking for the hoodie, which he finally found wadded up in a ball in the back of the closet. At first, he figured Jay had just been careless again, but as he stood up and shook it out, something fell to the floor with a dull thud. A box. A small, black, velvet box. 

“Oh.” Carlos felt the blood rush to his cheeks and start to pound in his ears. “ _ Oh.”  _

_ Don’t look,  _ his brain warned.  _ What if it’s not what you think it is?   _

But against his own better judgement, the white-haired boy knelt down slowly and pried open the lid with shaking hands. And yes, nestled inside was a ring. Simple, but substantial, with a black metal band and silver border. He’d never seen another ring like it in all his life. Just staring at it gave him goosebumps. 

“Oh my God.” Carlos could hear his own voice wavering as he struggled to pull out his phone. Evie. Evie would know how to handle this, what he should do. 

“Hi, Carlos,” came her cheerful greeting as the lines connected. “I was actually just about to call you. Wanna come over to Mal and my place tonight? I’m making carnitas. Carlos? Are you there?” 

Carlos’ mouth felt so dry and sticky that he could barely get any words out at all. “Is Jay gonna propose?” 

“What?” On the other end, Evie sounded a bit panicked. “Oh, um, what makes you say that, sweetheart?” 

“I found it,” the freckled boy croaked. “I found the ring. When I was cleaning. I didn’t mean to Evie, I swear. I just opened one of his sweatshirts - you know how he shoves them places - but I didn’t know it was wrapping the ring. And it’s a beautiful ring, and I think I might pass out, Evie, help.” 

“Carlos, breathe,” the princess urged. “I’ll come right over, okay? But first, you need to breathe. And center yourself. So that we can talk.” 

By the time Evie made it upstairs, Carlos had somehow stumbled his way to the kitchen table, still clutching the ring box tightly. 

“Jay showed me and Mal a few months ago,” Evie said gently as she sat down beside him. “I think he did a really good job picking it out, don’t you?” 

“He’s gonna propose.” The sentence just kept wanting to come out of his mouth. Jay was going to propose. He wanted to propose to him. He wanted to marry him. “He’s gonna propose, Evie.” 

Her hand found his shoulder. “Are you good overwhelmed or bad overwhelmed?”  

“Both… maybe… holy fuck, Evie, holy fuck.” Carlos rubbed his face. “I’m just a kid. What if I disappoint him?” 

“Carlos, you’re twenty-three.” 

“Already?” Carlos thought twenty-three sounded right, although at the moment, his mind was so jumbled he probably couldn’t have told her his own name. 

“‘Los… you don’t have to say yes, you know.”

“But I want to,” the freckled boy whispered. “The first thing I thought when I saw the box was that I really hoped it was a ring. I almost didn’t look because I didn’t want to be disappointed.” 

“Well then…” Evie giggled a little. “Carlos… you’re gonna be engaged. To Jay.” 

“Oh my  _ god _ .” The croak in his voice was back. Suddenly, his eyes went wide. “I ruined it. Oh fuck, Evie, I ruined his surprise. He was waiting to surprise me, wasn’t he?” 

“Well...” The princess made a face, shrugging a little. “Technically, he was waiting to finish all his credits and get his degree. But… yeah, I guess that is a problem. But you can just put it back, right? Pretend you haven’t seen it?” 

“And start our marriage off on lies?” Carlos rubbed his temples. 

“It’s not a lie!” 

“I kinda wish I hadn’t seen it now,” he admitted. “It would’ve been nice to be surprised. Although I might’ve actually passed out.” 

“Okay, wait,” Evie held up a hand. “What if… we surprise him right back?” Her eyes grew brighter by the second. “I’ll do some innocent digging and find out when he plans to propose and where and all that. Then, I’ll tell you. And we can set up our own surprise when he least expects it.” 

“Would I use this ring?” Carlos glanced down at the band. “Wouldn’t he be suspicious if he suddenly found it missing?” 

“Well…” Evie nudged him a little. “I think you should get him a ring of his own.” 

“I - I should?” He felt his throat get a little dry again. “Yeah… I guess you’re right… go with me, okay?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it, hun.” 

 

**x/x**

 

“So many rings,” Carlos whispered as he and Evie browsed the brightly lit glass display cases. “How did he decide on one?” 

“He said something like ‘it spoke to him’.” Evie put on her dramatic face, which did much to lighten his anxiety about the whole thing. And the pressure. Jay had chosen the perfect ring, hadn’t he? Would he get goosebumps when he saw Carlos’? Would he feel the same thing Carlos felt opening the box? 

“Wait, did you just say that  _ Jay _ said the ring spoke to him?” 

“He said something like that!” she giggled. “Maybe a little less eloquent.” Evie suddenly paused, staring at him. And as he looked closer, her eyes seemed a little bit glassy. 

“What?” 

She shook her head, her curls bouncing. “No, it’s nothing. It’s just - I can’t believe it. You’re picking a ring to propose to Jay. My two boys. Getting married. I just… it’s a lot.” 

“Good a lot?” 

And Evie smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, good a lot.”

“Okay, because I know it’s crazy, and I really - ah - hang on -” His phone started buzzing in his back pocket. When he finally fished it out, he couldn’t help feeling that panic feeling rise up again. Usually, seeing that particular face on his screen made his whole afternoon better, but then again, he wasn’t usually shopping for an engagement ring. “Shit, it’s Jay.” 

“Aw, he’s got a little heart emoji next to his contact in your phone?” Evie grinned at him. “That’s adorable.” 

Carlos shook his phone in her face. “Not important! What do I say to him?” He’d put that emoji there weeks ago to tease him, but it had ended up becoming less teasing and more endearing. Jay kind of liked stupid little things like that, and who was Carlos to tell him no? 

“Carlos,” Evie blinked. “We’re all very experienced liars. Just make something up.” 

“Not me,” he reminded her. “I think you’re thinking of Jay. My boyfriend. The one with all the lying practice. Also the one I’m buying a ring for. Right now.” 

“Okay, okay!” She snatched the phone, picking up. “Hey, Jay. Yeah, Carlos and I are out shopping. There’s a great sale on jewelry downtown - oh! Oh, tonight?” Evie gave Carlos a significant look. “No, no, he can’t hear me. So, you’re really gonna do it? Oh, God, Jay… are you nervous? Hey, it’s okay to admit you’re nervous, asshat.” 

Carlos listened to their conversation, his eyes wandering along the cases upon cases of rings. There were diamond rings and simple rings and huge expensive rings with big set jewels that kind of reminded him of his mother’s. If he were completely honest with himself, all the fancy jewelry made his skin itch. He and Jay had never had anything so precious in all their lives. Even now, with nine years in Auradon under their belt, luxuries like this still reminded him of the dust stained streets and graffitied shanties of their childhood. And Jay’s ring had been so perfect - old and weathered and  _ perfect.  _ How could he possibly propose to his boyfriend with a ring that just didn’t match up? In fact, Carlos was just starting to turn to Evie, to tell her that he didn’t want to buy a ring from this fancy place, when another display case caught his eye. 

The lighting in this one was darker, more intense, and it only housed a few rings on small velvet pillows. Unlike the fancy, sparkly rings he’d seen so far, these were older, heavier, almost ancient. 

“Oh,” Carlos breathed, coming closer to study them. “God, where did you guys come from?” 

Noticing his interest, one of the nearby sales clerks stepped behind the case. “Good afternoon, sir. I see you’ve found our Gilded Era pieces.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“The age of Heroes and Villains,” the man explained, gesturing to the rings. “These are all centuries old. We keep them separate from the modern pieces to pay homage to their history.” 

Carlos didn’t quite catch all of his words; he couldn’t seem to draw his gaze away from one of the rings in the case. It had a black and textured band, save a single crack running all the way around that seemed to be filled with tiny - 

“Diamonds,” Carlos gasped. “Are those diamonds? In that one there? Can I see it?”

Taking out his key, the man slid open the case, pulling out the black velvet pillow. “The ring in question is rather special. The band is dated back to the seventeenth century, but we think it was destroyed somehow - cracked - and later found and filled by a jeweler from the eighteenth century.” 

“A diamond in the rough,” Carlos whispered, absolutely despising how cheesy and awful it sounded out loud. 

“I suppose, yes,” the clerk laughed. “You could say that. Now, perhaps do you want to call your fiancée over and see what she thinks of it on your hand?” He motioned to Evie, and only now did it occur to Carlos that everyone in the store must have assumed that they were a couple. Especially since he was looking at  _ male  _ rings. 

“Actually,” Carlos shrugged. “Um, she’s not my fiancée, and the ring isn’t for me. It’s for my actual hopefully fiance-to-be. But I do want to show it to her anyway; she’s one of my best friends.” 

“Well, sir,” the sales clerk looked pained. “Now, you must know, this is typically a ring designed for a male. It’s thicker than the ones traditionally worn by females.” 

“I guess it’s a good thing that my fiance isn’t a girl,” Carlos said shortly, his heart only thudding a tiny bit. 

_ I hope they still want to do business with me. With us. Maybe I should’ve just lied and told him that Evie was my girl.  _

“Carlos?” Evie came over, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What did you - oh my God, sweetheart, did you pick out this ring? It’s stunning!” She pointed to the ring now sitting on it’s pillow on top of the case. “Oh, Jay is going to love it. It’s intense and dark. And not too modern, either.” 

“It’s from the Gilded Era, actually,” the clerk said with a pained smile. “However, I - I believe we had this on hold for -” 

“No, you didn’t.” Carlos folded his arms, steeling himself. He wasn’t leaving without the ring. “You were happy to sell it to me a moment ago.” 

“Yes, but then -” 

“You realized that I’m proposing to a boy and not a girl.” 

“What?” Evie stared from Carlos to the clerk and back again. “Are you really going to turn away a customer because he’s marrying a man?” 

“Where have I seen you before?” The clerk squinted at Evie for a moment, and Carlos cringed. He’d seen that look before, and knew exactly what came next. “You’re both from the island, aren’t you?” The clerk held up his hand, moving the pillow out of their reach as if they might take it and run. “No. No way. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. We don’t serve people like you here.” 

All at once, Carlos could feel his heart sinking. He wanted to fight, to draw his knife or stare the man down, but he was pretty positive those weren’t the right moves to get him what he wanted. He had two things weighing him down, like rocks tied to both ankles. 

_ You’re gay and a villain. How fantastic is that?  _

“I really want the ring,” the freckled boy said in the steadiest, calmest voice he could manage. “Please, sir. When I saw it, I knew it was the right one. It’s not perfect, and that’s what I love about it. It was cracked, but someone gave it a second chance, just like my boyfriend and I. Please. Jay - my boyfriend - is going to love it. He is. Just like I love him.” 

But the clerk had already turned away, putting the pillow back into the case and locking it. The finality of the move twisted the dagger in Carlos’ chest. “The ring is no longer available to you,” the man said coldly. “You may leave now.” 

Giving the clerk a withering glare, Evie hissed, “I hope you can sleep at night. Have fun in hell. Trust me, I’ve been there; you won’t survive a day.”  Then she turned on her heel and pulled Carlos with her. 

“I really wanted that ring,” he sighed. “It’s the one. I felt the goosebumps.” 

Behind them, Carlos saw a woman walk up to the ring case they’d been standing at. Just his luck. 

“Hi,” they heard her say to the clerk, who had re-assumed his cheerful smile. “That ring that you were just showing that other man? Can I see it? I think it’s the one I’m looking for. I hadn’t noticed it before. He had a good eye, didn’t he?” 

“I suppose.” The man brought out the ring again, and Carlos growled under his breath. 

“I could steal it,” the son of Cruella offered darkly. “Just grab it and run?” 

“No.” Evie shook her head. “Believe me, it’s tempting, but I think it would only lead to more trouble.” 

“She’s buying it,” Carlos told her, watching the transaction. “She’s buying my ring.” He stopped walking now and stared over his shoulder as the sales clerk slid the ring into a box and then into a bag. 

“There will be other rings, Carlos,” Evie soothed, sighing softly. “We’ll scour the town until we find another one.” 

“We have limited time,” he reminded her, remembering her phone call to Jay earlier. “Jay’s gonna do it tonight, isn’t he?” 

“Not until he gets back from work.” But even Evie looked a little worried. 

“Hey, you.” 

Carlos snapped his head around and frowned, surprised to see that the woman holding the bag with his ring had been the one to call out to him. 

_ Fuck, another fight.  _

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow, tensing, preparing for another confrontation. 

The woman nodded, motioning him over. She wasn’t speaking quietly, either, and Carlos felt several pairs of eyes fix on him. He took several breaths before stepping a bit closer to her, eyeing her warily. 

“I’ve got a gift for you,” the woman told him, motioning to the parcel in her arms. 

“Look, I - sorry, what?” Carlos paused, unsure if he understood. 

“For you.” She held out the bag. The bag with the ring. With  _ his  _ ring. “I’m sure your boyfriend is going to love it.” 

The son of Cruella was almost too shocked to answer. Was she really just giving away the ring? The most amazing ring in the whole world? Stealing a look at the sales clerk, he saw that the man had gone bright red and livid with pent up anger. 

“You can’t do that!” the clerk spluttered, glaring daggers at Carlos. Evie looked like she wanted to fire back, but the freckled boy held up his hand to stop her. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about the clerk anymore. Not if this woman was doing what she said she was doing.

“Are you sure?” he asked the woman, still not reaching for the bag. No one had ever done anything remotely like this for him in all his life. 

“Yes.” She gave him a warm smile. “You deserve it.”  

“I can pay you back,” Carlos said quickly, running the numbers in his head. If he made monthly payments, he could do it. “Double! I can pay you double!” 

“Please,” the lady laughed. “It’s a gift. You don’t have to pay me anything at all.” 

A gift. Carlos so rarely got gifts. In fact, the girls and Jay were the only people who’d ever gotten him anything in his life, except for maybe Ben. But here was a perfect stranger who’d just purchased a ring for someone she didn’t know and maybe never would. “I can’t let you do this,” he whispered, wishing it were easier to take charity. “I - I didn’t buy the ring. You did.” 

“I’m not even engaged,” the woman admitted. “I just come in here to look around sometimes. I bought it for you. It was unfair what that man just did to you.” 

“You don’t even know me.” He wasn’t sure how his voice kept getting lower. “How do you know I’m not some scammer?” 

“You seemed pretty passionate up there,” the girl told him with a smile. “No one talks about love like that if they’re just looking for a scam. Tell your boyfriend that he’s picked a winner.” She pressed the bag into Carlos’ arms and he sucked in a breath. He was holding the ring. Jay’s ring. 

“Thank you,” Carlos whispered, knowing it didn’t convey a third of what he felt. “Thank you so much. Thank you.” 

 

_ And this was just the easy part,  _ he thought wryly, still clutching the bag to his chest like a lifeline.  _ Now I have to go actually propose.  _

_ Oh, Evil, help me.  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II coming soon!


End file.
